If That's What You Want
by EGB Fan
Summary: Eduardo and Kylie marry, coincidentally on the same day a whole bunch of youknowwhat happens.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Ghostbusters (c) Columbia Pictures

**Warning: **Sexual content in subsequent chapters

_Extreme Ghostbusters:_ **If That's What You Want**

Part 1

**Sunday 7th June 1846**

Constantine Slaymaker took the fine-tooth comb from the dresser and began to draw it through the flawless mane of thick honey curls in front of her.

"I'm so excited," gushed Sally.

"I'm sure you are," Constantine replied expressionlessly, catching Sally's unnaturally pale blue eyes in the mirror and wondering how surprised she would act on the wedding night.

"I can hardly believe it! I'm actually going to marry him!"

"You certainly are, honey."

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

x x x

**Monday 28th August 2006**

"Hi, come in, thanks for coming."

"No problem." Kevin Rivera, still not completely awake, and brimming with curiosity about the eight a.m. phone call, stepped over the threshold and into his uncle's small apartment. "What -? Oh, hi!"

Kevin crouched to greet his five-year-old cousin Conchita, who was always pleased to see him.

"Hi, Kevin," she smiled. "You look nice."

"Oh." Kevin looked down dubiously at his old grey t-shirt and skin-tight black jeans ("They'll make you sterile," his baggy-clothed semi-friend Oscar had once warned him). "Thanks. So do you."

Kevin was eighteen – a mere nine years younger than Eduardo Rivera, his only blood uncle. The generations in that family had somehow got themselves out of sync. Eduardo was some eight years nearer in age to his nephew than he was to his older brother, which had probably helped make him and Kevin close. After all Kevin was an only child, and the cousins on his mother's side lived some distance away in Iowa.

"So how was your trip to the homeland?" asked Kevin. This was the first time he was seeing Eduardo's branch of the family since they got back from a visit to an aunt in Mexico. He suspected he was the first person to welcome them home, since they had arrived back in New York only the previous evening.

"It was good," said Eduardo, and proceeded to tell Kevin all the latest family gossip until the other half of the household wandered into the room some minutes later.

Kylie Griffin, Eduardo's girlfriend of approximately eight years, arrived carrying their younger daughter Rose, who was wrapped in a towel. Rose was only two-and-a-half, and didn't mind being naked in front of eighteen-year-old boys just yet.

"Hi, Kevin," Kylie said pleasantly. She was slightly less underdressed than Rose, wearing only a towelling robe, which seemed to cause some distress in Eduardo.

"Aren't you ready yet?" he boggled.

"Yes, I'm going like this," retorted Kylie. "Here." She bundled Rose, towel and all, into his arms. "Help her get dressed, can you?"

"Mommy, I can get dressed by myself!" argued Rose. She was talking well for her age – she spoke virtually fluent English and Spanish, in fact – which many people found astonishing, because she was absolutely tiny and didn't look two-and-a-half.

"Maybe we should get somebody to sit for them," Kylie demurred, as she looked dubiously at Rose's I'm-not-in-the-mood-for-anything expression. "They're going to be so bored."

"What's happening?" asked Kevin, pouncing upon the opportunity to ask the question that had trailed him like a stray dog since he left his father's house.

"We're getting married," said Kylie.

"You're getting _what_?"

"Married."

Kevin blinked. "What, now?"

"Yes. Well." Kylie glanced at the digital clock on the VCR. It was about nine thirty. "In about an hour and a half."

Kevin looked first at his undressed, towel-wrapped little cousin, and then at Kylie's oversized robe. "Aren't we cutting it a bit close?" he asked.

"It'll be fine," Kylie said breezily.

"I'm not supposed to get dressed up or anything, am I?"

"No, no, we just need you to be a witness." She wandered off in the direction of the bathroom and the two bedrooms.

Kevin glanced down at Conchita. "And I thought _my_ parents were weird," he said.

"Hey," said Kylie, coming straight back. "We're twenty-seven and we're getting married by a judge with two witnesses instead of making a fuss. What's weird about that? Get her dressed, can't you?" she added impatiently, looking at Eduardo.

"Nothing," said Kevin. "What's weird is that no one seems to know about it. Why haven't you told anybody?"

Kylie sighed. "I'm going to have to explain this to absolutely everyone, aren't I?"

Kevin looked at her expectantly.

"_You_ tell him, Eddie. I have to get dressed."

"It's only because she didn't want a fuss," Eduardo explained. He hoisted Rose up slightly, because she was in danger of slipping through the towel. "Apparently people 'go insane at the mere mention of marriage and weddings' and try to persuade you to do stuff you don't want to."

"Do they?" Kevin asked dubiously.

"I don't know. The only experience of weddings I have is Egon and Janine, which they wanted to be huge anyway, and your mom and dad, which was a _long_ time ago."

"Twenty-one years, isn't it?"

"Something like that."

"So what about what _you_ want?" asked Kevin. "You said it's what _she_ wants. Are you ok with… you know… getting married in secret?"

Eduardo shrugged. "Hey, I just want to get married."

"Fair enough. It's kinda like Dad: he always told me he didn't care how he and Mom got married and they had a big wedding because it was what _she_ wanted."

"I heard that one too."

"Y'know," said Kevin, "he's _really_ gonna freak out when he finds out you guys got married secretly."

Eduardo snorted. "Like it's any of his goddamn business."

"Do you think he'll be mad at me if he finds out I was in on it?"

"You're not in on it. You've only known for about two minutes."

"True," Kevin conceded. "I just don't want to antagonise him right now. I've already got some news I don't want to break to him."

"What's that?" asked Eduardo.

"I'm not telling you."

"That bad, huh?"

"I don't know… I'd just rather not tell you now, since you're getting married and all."

"All right." Eduardo cut a glance in the direction of the bedrooms. "Kev, can you do me a favour and dress this one for me?"

"Daddy!" wailed Rose, as she was passed on a second time. "I can do it _myself_!"

"Sure," said Kevin. "You want her in anything special?"

"I can do it myself, Kevin!"

"You know I'd never tell anyone how to dress, Kev. Let her choose for herself."

Kevin carried Rose through to the bedroom that she shared with Conchita, who incidentally went with them, while Eduardo wandered through to the room he and Kylie slept in. He found Kylie smoothing a somewhat matronly black dress – long-sleeved, and cut to mid-calf – over the contours of her slight frame. It didn't look right on her somehow, especially as she was without her makeup.

"That's what you're wearing?" he asked.

"Ah-ha."

Eduardo watched, faintly relieved, as she bent her knees slightly and tore away a considerable portion of the skirt. It must have been a pretty flimsy fabric, and it made a very satisfying sound as it ripped. She then tore away both sleeves to the elbow and, just when Eduardo thought she must have finished, she managed to tear away most of the neck as well (with a little bit of clever contortionism). She then folded the frayed fabric onto itself and smoothed it over her upper arms, exposing her shoulders.

"That'll do," she said, glancing at the three-quarter-length mirror on the dresser as she stepped into her combat boots.

"How much did that dress cost you?" asked Eduardo, just out of interest.

"Oh, not much."

"You're making an effort to dress up for this, aren't you? Are you sure you don't want me to wear something… else?" He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"Babe," said Kylie. She sat down at the dresser and picked up a black lipstick. "I just want you to be yourself." She expertly applied the lipstick, and then made a face at herself in the mirror. "Maybe I'm getting too old for this stuff."

"What stuff?"

"You know – black lipstick and excessive mascara and tearing up my clothes."

"Well," said Eduardo, smiling slightly, "now seems a good time to stop. I mean, we _are_ getting married, and a woman's duty is to represent her husband."

Kylie threw him a very-funny-I-_don't_-think look in the mirror. "I _know_ you don't mean that."

"Kylie." He crossed the room and crouched down next to her, so that his eyes were about level with her shoulders. "We _are_ going to be ready in time, aren't we? I mean, you _did_ organise another witness?"

"Of course I did," said Kylie, with one eye shut, as she was now applying eye shadow. "I'm not stupid. He should be here any minute."

"Who is it?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh," said Kylie. "Well, it's Leonard."

"Who?"

"Leonard."

"Who?"

She smacked him lightly on the arm and said, "Leonard Bates, you moron. One of our clients from 'ninety-seven?"

"Leonard… Oh, wait a minute – you mean that old letch who had a wishing well and wished for an evil soul-sucking bride with no skin?"

"Letch?" echoed Kylie. "Leonard isn't a letch!"

"Sure he is. He had the hots for you when you were eighteen and he was forty."

"Thirty-nine."

"And eleven months."

"He didn't have the hots for me," argued Kylie. "_I_ might have had a little crush on _him_, I do admit. I was a kid and I liked older men, but that was a long time ago. And don't make that face at me – I'm not your mother."

Eduardo had adopted the expression he had always given his mother in moments of extreme petulance since childhood. Rose tended to use it more than he did nowadays (she had it down to a tee), but every so often it would creep back into Eduardo's face. He tried to dispel it, but the look only deepened as he asked irritably, "Why _him_?"

"Why _not_ him?"

"Because he's nobody. Since he stopped globetrotting and came back to New York, you've only exchanged a couple of e-mails with him."

"Yeah, well, who else was I supposed to ask?" reasoned Kylie. "You want Kevin to be there, because you and he are close, but I don't _have_ any close family. There are only three people that really matter to me, but _you_ can't be your own witness and I think we'd have trouble persuading the judge that the girls are over eighteen."

That little speech made Eduardo feel pretty guilty. "What about your dad?" he asked.

"Oh." Kylie pulled a face. "You know how I feel about him. I mean, don't get me wrong – I love him and everything – but we've never been close. And besides, I don't think he'd really want to see me get married."

"Sure he would. He loves you like crazy, Ky."

"Yeah, but he's been totally disillusioned about marriage ever since his went down the pan. He might not like it."

"He only wants you to be happy."

Kylie shrugged. "I guess."

"I don't think _my_ dad would've wanted to see this. He'd have hated you."

Kylie raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"He always said there were two kinds of women: the kind you have fun with, and the kind you marry. He was pretty sexist," Eduardo said sheepishly. "You wouldn't have liked him either."

"Yeah, well." Having finished concealing her face with makeup, she swivelled round on the chair and looked at him. "Never mind. I think he'd be really proud of you."

"Ha! I don't know about that."

"He would… He _is_. You did two good things, at least."

"Yeah," Eduardo smiled, knowing at once what she meant. "He adored Kevin."

"There you go, then."

"He liked Beth too. He always said she was 'marriage material'."

"I really am sorry your family all hate me, you know."

"They don't all hate you."

"They do," argued Kylie.

"Yeah, well, I suppose I've had girlfriends my mother and Carlos liked more. It's ironic, really. I mean, if it weren't for you I'd probably still be with…"

"Who?" demanded Kylie, as he bit his lip to stem the final word of that sentence.

"No one."

"Oh, come on, tell me. It won't bother me, I promise."

"All right then," Eduardo conceded. "Bess."

"Who?"

"Bess."

"Who? Oh, wait – I remember Bess! One of that trio of misguided witches you were seduced into joining, wasn't she? Wow. You liked her all that much, huh?"

"Yeah, I liked her," Eduardo confessed.

"But you finished with her way before anything happened between you and me."

"Yeah, well…" – he was no longer looking her in the eye.

"You told us it was because she met someone else."

"Yes, well, I was… lying. I broke up with her because I was in love with _you_. She never told me what she wanted – she always just followed me, and all I could think was that she was so different from _you_. And then one day I realised that whenever I was with her, I was just wishing she _was_ you. _Pretending_ she was you, even."

"What do you mean, like, in bed?" asked Kylie, intrigued.

"Sure," said Eduardo. "In bed, at the movies, the college cafeteria… everywhere! I felt like I was cheating on her."

"You never told me that."

"Well, I couldn't tell you at the time, obviously. And then later… I don't know, it just didn't seem important." He paused. "My mom really liked her. So did Carlos."

"So did you, apparently."

"Yeah," said Eduardo, "but I didn't love her."

He was beginning to get pins and needles from sitting on his heels for so long, but it was nothing to the urge he suddenly felt to kiss the woman beside him. He wanted to let her know how much their marrying meant to him, but it was the kind of thing that just couldn't be articulated without sounding soppy and corny. Some women, he knew, liked soppy and corny. He also knew that Kylie was not one of them.

The kiss had been going on for almost a minute when the knock came at the door. Eduardo didn't hear it but Kylie pushed him away, caught her breath and said, "That'll be Leonard. Can you go and let him in?" As she spoke she used the pad of her thumb to wipe streaks of black lipstick from his mouth.

Eduardo frowned slightly. "What am I supposed to say to him?"

"Hi, Leonard. Come on in. Thank you for coming. How have you been? This is my nephew Kevin and my daughters Conchita and Rose. Kylie will be out in a minute. Can I get you any- "

"Ok, ok, I'm going."

He rose to his full height and headed for the doorway. On his way out he saw that Kylie was reapplying her lipstick, as the original coat was now severely smudged. Catching her eye in the mirror, he said, "Not too old for it, then?"

"Ha!" said Kylie. "Probably. I'll stop when I'm thirty."

When Eduardo returned to the living room, he found that Kevin had already let Leonard in and was making the introductions. Eduardo deduced that Leonard had just met Rose, judging by Kevin's apologetic tone as he said, "It's nothing personal – she's just not good with people."

Rose toddled out from behind the sofa and attached herself firmly to Eduardo's left leg. She had got dressed, all by herself, and was wearing a hand-me-down black sweater and jeans. Bizarrely she seemed to like black (her parents had had no idea it was genetic), while her sister favoured pink; Rose liked to play with Kylie's makeup, whereas Conchita preferred her aunt Beth's. A lot of people shook their heads and wondered how two children from the exact same gene pool, being raised in the exact same environment, could be so different. But Eduardo was not surprised. He liked to think that no two people were more dissimilar than himself and his brother.

"Eduardo, hi!" Leonard approached and extended his hand, which Eduardo graciously shook. "Wow, it seems like such a long time."

"It's been almost nine years," Eduardo pointed out.

"Wow, so it has. So I guess I was right about you and Kylie after all, huh? I'm so glad you're both happy. It's nice. Your daughters are beautiful."

"Um… thanks."

"I'm really flattered that Kylie asked me to come to your wedding. I mean, if Kevin and I are the only witnesses… that makes me feel kind of special. I'd have liked to go to my own kids' weddings, but obviously it's too late for that… I mean, it's never going to happen now, is it?"

"Um…"

Fortunately Kylie appeared at that moment, and greeted Leonard with a warm hug that made Eduardo feel extremely uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn't feel that way – after all, Kylie _was_ about to marry _him_ – but he just couldn't help it.

"_Loco_," muttered Rose. "_Qué trágico_."

Eduardo laughed, and tousled her already untidy black hair. "_Si, querida_."

"Right," said Kylie, once she had accepted Leonard's praise of her home, her children and her life. "We'd better think about going. The bathroom's back there, Leonard," she added, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

Leonard wandered obediently towards the bathroom, and Kylie immediately pulled Kevin and Eduardo – who still had Rose clinging onto him – to one side.

"Guys, do me a favour," she murmured furtively. "If you should ever happen to talk to my dad about this, and he asks who was my guest, just tell him it was a friend of mine – don't tell him too much about Leonard."

Kevin looked slightly scared. "I'm in way over my head here, aren't I?" he said.

"It's no big deal," Kylie said breezily. "I just wouldn't want him to think I have – I don't know – like, a substitute dad or anything. Ok?"

"Ok," said Kevin.

"Sure," said Eduardo. "If that's what you want. I'll go call a cab."

While he did that, Kylie went through the usual argument with Rose, who insisted that she didn't need to use the bathroom (Conchita, being that much more mature than her sister, was usually willing to try).

"So," Leonard said to Kylie, when Eduardo had taken over trying to persuade Rose just to go to the bathroom and see if anything happened (she had taken up her usual trick of annoying her mother by answering in Spanish). "You're not taking any notice of that superstition about the bride and groom seeing each other before the wedding?"

Kylie shrugged. "I don't see what difference it can make to our future. I don't believe in bad luck. Besides, it would have been too much hassle. One of us would have had to spend the night with somebody else. How dumb would that be?"

"And no bouquet throwing either?"

"Ah. No. My children will be the only women present, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardise their freewill in the future. You see, _that_ one actually works."

Leonard blinked. "It does?"

"Seems to. Like, you remember Janine? She got lumbered with the bouquet at Dr. Venkman's wedding, and then she married this nerdy little guy in glasses. It didn't work out in the end, and she married Egon, and guess who ended up with the damn thing at that one."

"You?"

"Right. And no other women who were at that wedding have got married since. Go figure. And it's an outdated tradition anyway. Like women are all desperate to marry. I mean, come on – it's on a par with being given away by your father."

x x x

Constantine was not usually one to follow, and she didn't like this one little bit. She rose onto her toes, attempting to see between the shoulders of Sally and Sally's father. She soon caught sight of her brother standing at the altar, and she waved. In exchange she received a severe look, and then she tensed as she felt a hand on her arm. It was Sally's bratty little sister, of course – almost a mirror image of Constantine in her less than spectacular miniature of Sally's wedding dress.

As much as she hated being told what to do (with looks and gestures or otherwise), Constantine shifted her balance back onto the heels of her hugging shoes and began to follow Sally and her filthy rich father down the aisle. She could not, and nor did she want to suppress a small smile as Sally tripped slightly on the folds of her own dress.

"Dearly beloved," the priest began, in agonisingly slow tones, and Constantine yawned widely. She was shot another disapproving look by her brother.

"…Do you, Wolf-Christian Slaymaker, take this woman, Sally Ann Wells…?"

At this rate it would never end. Constantine kept her dark eyes on Sally's pale, smiling, veil-covered face.

"If any persons here present…"

Constantine's eyes flickered onto the people in the pews. On one side, her family and the friends she and Wolf-Christian had had thrust upon them. On the other, those awful people who were offloading their even worse relative onto _her_ family.

"…speak now, or forever hold their peace."

No one spoke. Constantine had expected this, but still she expelled a loud sigh of frustration. Everyone in the church shot her a sharp look, including the priest. She flashed them all a synthetic smile of apology.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

x x x

"Can you make it quick?" Kylie asked the judge quietly, as the four guests made themselves as comfortable as possible on the uncomfortable wooden chairs. "Only, our little girl is going to get bored and start grizzling soon."

"Um, all right," the judge agreed. He was still a little bit amazed by Kylie's choice of bridal wear.

Kylie looked over her shoulder. Kevin had already taken Rose onto his lap, and she was playing with the fingers clasped round her waist with a sulky expression on her face. Conchita, thankfully, looked all right. She was chatting to Leonard.

The judge obliged Kylie by running comparatively quickly through the traditional wedding vows, which had already been shortened considerably at the bride's request (Eduardo had said he didn't mind as long as they ended up married). "Obey" had been the first one to go, followed by most of the remaining verbs.

"There's no point," Kylie had insisted. "We _know_ we're going to do all of that stuff – why bother reciting it like, like a poem or something? Anyway it's lost its meaning now. Almost half of all marriages end in divorce these days, you know."

"I know," Eduardo said dryly.

"Hey. I'm not saying _ours_ is going to. I'm just saying, you know, those words are tainted. They don't mean anything. I mean, God, my parents said them and obviously didn't mean them. It just wouldn't feel right for _me_ to say it to _you_."

"Yeah, well, it seems to be fashionable to write your own vows these days."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"No idea."

"Me neither. And anyway it's tacky."

"True."

The judge didn't really have a great deal to remember for this particular wedding, or such was Kylie's opinion, so she was quietly rather furious when, at the end of the short ceremony, he completely forgot (or else outright disrespected) her wishes by proclaiming, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

"Husband!" fumed Kylie, when they stood outside some ten minutes later, all the relevant parties having signed the register. "I now pronounce you _husband_ and wife! What's so hard about that? I want my money back!"

"Babe, come on," reasoned Eduardo. "The guy married us – that's what we paid for."

"He did it wrong," Kylie said sulkily.

"What's wrong with 'man and wife'?" Leonard asked innocently.

Kylie scowled at him. "What do you _mean_ what's wrong with man and wife? It's sexist, that's what's wrong with it! It's an outmoded concept! It has connotations."

"What connotations?" Leonard pressed.

"Well," said Kylie, indicating Eduardo, "_he_ still gets be himself, and I'm just his wife. I feel extremely marginalised."

"Does it really matter, Mommy?" Conchita asked soothingly.

"On one level, honey, yes, it does," Kylie told her. "Because a very long time ago, before you were born, marriage was a contract of ownership whereby a woman's father gave her to a younger man so she could look after his house and have his babies, and she became his property."

"Come on, Kylie, that was before even _I_ was born," reasoned Leonard.

"It was," Kylie agreed, still looking at Conchita; "but many of the traditions used in weddings to this day are left over from those times, like the bride's father giving her away, which I think you probably noticed didn't happen. And the judge, or the priest, or whoever saying, 'I now pronounce you man and wife' is another. Which _did_ happen. Even though I didn't want it to. Because it's totally sexist."

"But on another level, Chita," Eduardo jumped in, "they're just words, and the important thing is that Mommy and I are now married."

"So what happens now?" demanded Rose.

"Lunch, I think," Kylie decided. "Are you hungry, Rosie?"

"Yes."

"Where would you like to go?"

"Pizza Hut."

Kylie looked at Leonard and Kevin. "Anyone feel like going to Pizza Hut?"

x x x

"That," said Leonard, when they were all settled and eating their pizza, "was the strangest wedding I've ever been to."

"It's the _only_ wedding _I've_ ever been to," said Kevin.

"Me too," said Conchita.

"I hate weddings," Rose decided on the spot.

"I'm sorry, honey." Kylie ran a hand over her younger daughter's hair. "We'll never get married again, I promise."

"This is pretty unusual too," remarked Leonard, "as wedding receptions go. Aren't you guys having a honeymoon or anything?"

"We just spent two weeks vacationing in Mexico," said Kylie. "And Chita's got school next week. I don't think we'll bother."

Kevin returned to this remark only after the meal was over, Leonard had excused himself and Kylie had taken the girls to the restroom (even though Rose absolutely did _not_ need to go) in preparation to leave.

"Are you ok with not having a honeymoon?"

Eduardo looked at him. "Why do you keep asking me if I'm ok with all of this?"

Kevin shrugged. "I'm just worried that you're not getting what you want."

"Kevin, what I want is to be married to her. And I am."

"Oh. Ok then." He paused. "But I'll bet this wasn't how you imagined your wedding day, though, was it?"

"I never imagined my wedding day, Kev. I'm not a girl."

"Didn't you?" asked Kevin. "You never thought about it?"

"Not about the wedding, no," said Eduardo. "Just about what would happen afterwards. You know – a nice big TV, three-piece suite, a kid…"

"Just one kid?"

"Yes."

"You only wanted one kid?"

"For a while."

"So it was Kylie's idea to have Rose?"

"Initially it was, yes."

"Didn't you want her?"

"Of course I wanted her."

Eduardo suddenly remembered how Kylie had been the week before Rose's due date: uncharacteristically nervy and indecisive. She had been unable to enjoy her twenty-fifth birthday; she was a day overdue to give birth, and anxious to get it over with while almost hoping that the time wouldn't come at all (illogical as that was).

"I forgot all about the pain as soon as Chita was out and I was holding her," Kylie had said. "But then yesterday I remembered it. I don't want to go through labour again."

They had gone to sleep that night as usual, and both been woken at six o'clock in the morning by the cold, damp touch of amniotic fluid. Eduardo had phoned Beth, who had driven them to hospital and taken Conchita; then Kylie had reverted to her usual self and just got on with it. Eduardo never did understand why she kept refusing the midwife's offer of an epidural. She _had_ explained her reasons, which he had thought sounded a bit hippie (basically, as far as he could tell, she wanted it to be as natural as she could bear), but he supposed if they made sense to her that was all that mattered.

Rose had arrived after an eight-hour labour, and had apparently been slightly easier to push out than Conchita (as well as being five hours faster). Kylie had learnt for the second birth that the easiest way for her to do this was, strangely enough, to kneel on the floor. Eduardo remembered her futile efforts the first time around as she knelt on the hospital bed, her arms clasped tightly around his waist and Conchita going nowhere in spite of the midwife's insistence that Kylie was fully dilated.

"Absolutely no forceps," Kylie said adamantly when the contraction was over, she had practically pushed her eyes out of her head and the baby hadn't budged an inch. "I just can't do it up here."

She then made her way onto the cold, hard floor and asked Eduardo to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, feeling the first waves of that ridiculously intense pain, she leaned forward onto his lap and dug her nails into his elbows as the contraction overwhelmed her. This time, thankfully, she felt the baby moving in response to her efforts.

"I think Mom might have wanted to have more kids," said Kevin, bringing Eduardo back to the present. "Dad once told me that they probably would have had another if I'd been a girl, but as I was a boy they didn't, because he only really wanted a son. Oh God." He suddenly collapsed forward onto the table. "He's going to kill me."

"Kev, what is this terrible news?" asked Eduardo. "Please tell me."

"No, no, I can't. Please don't make me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Anyway." Kevin sat up again. "Kylie likes making decisions, doesn't she? Mom never makes decisions like that. Your marriage isn't going to be anything like Mom and Dad's, is it?"

"All marriages are different, Kev."

"I used to wonder why you liked her so much. It always struck me that she wasn't much like the other girls you brought home."

It was probably true, but Eduardo didn't think any of his past girlfriends had been that similar anyway. It was almost as though he had been trying out different types until he found the one he wanted (though he wouldn't dare say that out loud – it sounded terrible). Kylie, he had known for some months before even letting her know his feelings, was definitely that one. He couldn't help smiling as she emerged from the ladies' with their two beautiful, wonderful, precious daughters. In spite of the rather casual way they were doing this, he was finding the day very emotional, and was again transported back in his mind to the scenario of Conchita's birth.

"Ok, that's the head out," the midwife said brightly.

Kylie lifted her head slowly from Eduardo's lap and said, in a voice that just seemed to epitomise exhaustion, "You mean I'm not done yet?"

"Just one more big push," the midwife said encouragingly, "when you feel another contraction."

"Great," muttered Kylie.

She looked up at Eduardo and managed a small smile. Eduardo lifted a hand to push back her hair, which was plastered to her forehead with sweat.

"One more contraction," said Kylie. "I guess I can handle that." Several seconds passed. "So where the hell is it?"

The seconds ticked by. Afterwards Kylie always said it seemed like at least ten minutes, maybe more. To Eduardo it seemed like five, but the midwife assured them that it was only two and a half. Then suddenly he felt Kylie's grip on his elbows tighten as she said, with a distinct note of fear in her voice, "Oh, here it comes!"

Eduardo couldn't help wondering if anyone else ever gave birth like this. Television had convinced him that all women gave birth lying on their backs; but then in recent months antenatal classes had taught him that this was an old-fashioned way of doing things and it had now been realised, by some clever person, that it was better to squat, kneel, sit or stand and "have everything pointing down", as Kylie had once put it. But, unlike most (presumably), she was on the floor. The midwife was practically lying down, her head very nearly on the tiles and her hands poised to catch the baby.

And then, quite suddenly, it happened. Kylie let out a small scream, followed by a huge sigh of relief as her baby fell into the midwife's hands. Conchita (as she had not yet been named) cried straightaway, which was a relief to everyone. She was passed between Kylie's legs in a most undignified manner. Eduardo, mesmerised, seemed to float to the floor as he gazed at the tiny red screwed-up face of their baby girl.

"Oh my God!" Kylie was in tears, which she had never expected. "I had a baby!"

Eduardo couldn't help laughing at that. Then suddenly a pair of really bizarre looking scissors (he didn't know their technical name, though he was sure they must have had one) was thrust into his hands and the midwife asked brightly, "Mr. Rivera, would you like to cut the cord?"

"Um, ok."

They were still on the floor while Eduardo, under the midwife's suffocatingly close supervision, performed this little ritual. He and Kylie then gazed down at their baby for several minutes before both of them finally snapped back to reality. Kylie let the midwife take her baby to clean her up, and climbed back onto the bed whilst apologising for the mess on the floor. Eduardo, meanwhile, went to phone Beth, his mother, Kylie's father and finally the gathering of their colleagues at the firehouse anxiously awaiting news of the delivery.

With Rose, they had gone through the same sitting/kneeling/lying ritual again (this time with a different midwife, who had not got on with Kylie at all for various reasons), and the same moment of utter euphoria. Kylie seemed almost as stunned to have had this baby as she had been the first time she did it.

"I don't think," she said, once the phone calls had been made and the cleaning up had been done, "I ever want to go through all that again."

"We don't have room for another one anyway," Eduardo pointed out.

"Were you hoping she'd be a boy?"

"No. I'm glad she's a girl. She and Chita won't mind sharing a room for however long, and they'll probably get on better than if she was a boy. And when they hit puberty you'll have to deal with it and I can pretend it's not happening."

"Hey!" The Kylie of the here and now was waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you with us?"

"Sorry." Eduardo snapped out of it. "What's happening now?"

"I want to go home and get changed," said Kylie. "Chita wants to go the firehouse and see everybody. You could take the girls and I could catch you up later, or we could all go home first if you'd rather."

"Actually," said Eduardo, taking Rose onto his lap, "I think what I'd like to do is go and break the news to Carlos. I want to get it over with."

"All right," said Kylie. "I'll take the girls – they won't want to witness that."

"Oh, come on, Dad's not nearly as bad as you make out," said Kevin.

"Yes, well," said Kylie. "Even so."

"Are you coming with me, Kev?" asked Eduardo.

"No, sorry, I won't," replied Kevin. "There's some stuff I want to do today."

"Ok." Eduardo nudged Rose to encourage her off his lap, and then stood up. "I guess I'll settle the bill as well. Bye, Kevin – thank you for coming."

"No problem." Kevin stood up as well, and hugged Eduardo affectionately. "I haven't said it yet, have I? Congratulations." He hugged Kylie as well, dwarfing her almost as much as his oversized father did. Then he stooped to hug his young cousins. "Bye, girls. I'll see you… sometime."

x x x

"I just want to talk to him," Constantine muttered irritably. "Can't she leave him alone for five minutes?"

"They're married now, dear," her mother pointed out.

"Exactly. They're going to be welded together for the rest of their lives."

"That isn't a nice way to talk about marriage, Constantine. I _do_ wish you'd consider it for yourself."

"Do you, Mother? I thought perhaps you named me Constantine because you wanted me to stay chaste. Ah!"

She moved away from her mother as soon as she saw that someone else – some man she didn't even bother looking at – had Sally's attention.

"Congratulations, Wolf," Constantine said insincerely.

"Thank you, Connie," her brother replied.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ecstatic."

"Right." There was a strained silence. "Good."

"Connie, she's family now," Wolf-Christian said reasonably. "You must try to get along with her."

"Who is that man she's plastered herself onto?" asked Constantine.

"Her cousin Joseph. He's a very nice man, Connie. You might like him."

"Like him enough to marry him, you mean?"

"You never know."

"Constantine!" and she suddenly found herself in Sally's crushing embrace. "Wasn't it a beautiful ceremony?"

"Yes, beautiful."

"I'm sorry you didn't catch the bouquet."

"I'm not."

"You and Kathy made beautiful bridesmaids."

Constantine, seeing now that her brother was distracted, hissed, "Sally, you don't have to put on this act for me. I can see right through you."

Sally blinked. "I don't know what you mean, Connie."

"Don't call me that. Listen – you're married to my brother now, so you can damn well keep your hands off the servants. All right?"

Sally scowled deeply. "You have no idea what you're talking about Constantine."

"You shouldn't make faces like that, dear. You'll ruin your flawless complexion."

x x x

"Kylie, hi, welcome back!" As ever, Janine Spengler was on the front line. "Hi, girls. How was your vacation?"

"It was really good," said Kylie.

"Good. Where's Eduardo?"

"Funnily enough, he's gone to see Carl." Time for this conversation, then. "He's telling him that we got married this morning."

Janine's eyes widened. "You got _what_?"

"Married."

"Oh. Wow. Why didn't you…?"

"Tell anyone?" suggested Kylie. "We wanted to keep it low-key."

"I see."

"Is that so strange?"

"No, no," Janine said hastily. "Well. Congratulations. Ooh – do you want me to change your name on the employee records?"

"To what?" Kylie asked confusedly.

"Rivera. Unless you'd prefer something else."

"No thank you." Conchita got there first. "She's keeping her own name."

"She's right," Kylie confirmed. "I am."

"Oh," said Janine. "Well, would you like me to change Miss to Ms?"

"If it'll make you happy, Janine, but I'm not really bothered about that."

"You can't be Miss now that you're married."

"_Why_ can't I?"

"Well, because… because Miss means you aren't married."

"Ah-ha," Kylie said dryly. "And Mrs. means you _are_ married, and in this enlightened times Ms. either means you're no longer with the man whose name you've taken, or you're married and you're keeping your father's name. And yet men don't have this problem because they're always Mister, because whether or not you're married and whom you are married _to_ is a woman's whole identity but has no bearing on the status or individuality of a man. It's not fair, is it?"

"It doesn't bother _me_," said Janine. "Don't you think, Kylie, that you're being a touch over analytical?"

Kylie shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But the point is, my surname will never be anything but Griffin. So anyway, who's here? Are Garrett and Roland around?"

"Yes, upstairs."

"Great, thanks."

Conchita made for the stairs, but Rose for some reason refused to move, so Kylie picked her up and carried her (fortunately she didn't seem to mind). Kylie was barely at the top of the staircase before she was almost pushed back down it by something small and very fast cannoning into her legs and wrapping itself around them.

"What the…? Oh, hi," said Kylie, smiling slightly when she saw who was responsible, and setting Rose down on the floor.

"Oh," said Rose. "It's you."

The dark-haired, blue-eyed, absolutely adorable two-year-old boy seemed to miss the displeasure in her tone and fixed her with a charming smile. He then attempted to hug her, but was thwarted when she ducked out of the way, and so moved on to Conchita.

"Hello, Max," said Conchita, returning the embrace. "How are you?"

Kylie manoeuvred her way around the three small children and made her way into the rec room where, as promised by Janine, she found her two friends and colleagues Roland Jackson and Garrett Miller.

"Did he bump into anything?" Garrett asked tentatively.

"Only my shins."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologise."

"Did you hear the adoption's been finalised?" Roland asked brightly.

"Really?" Kylie looked at Garrett, genuinely thrilled by this news. "When?"

"Wednesday," said Garrett. "All signed and sealed and final. They can't take him away from us now no matter _what_ we do to him. Well, within reason."

"Wow, that's great, congratulations!" She went over and hugged him, stooping only slightly; in his wheelchair, he about reached her chin.

"Yeah, I'm so relieved," said Garrett. He still had one eye on his brand new son. Not that he could do much if Max _did_ decide to indulge in his little hobby of running into anything that happened to be in his way. "We were a bit worried they might not let us keep him. He's absolutely covered in bruises – you should see him with his clothes off. I can say stuff like that now that I'm his father," he added proudly.

"Yeah," said Kylie, looking over her shoulder at the former Max Sanford, now Maxwell Nicholas Miller ("so his initials would be M.N.M"). Garrett and his wife Jo had obviously had fun picking out all that miniature sportswear for him. "So how are things at home? He's settled and everything?"

"Yeah, he loves it. He probably doesn't even remember life before us."

"Just as well." Kylie knew it hadn't been pleasant.

"My mom and dad only really see him on weekends," Garrett went on, "which isn't ideal. I think Mom's a bit jealous – he's getting on great with Jo's family. Her mother can't get enough of him, and he just loves Alex and Scott and McEnroe."

This wasn't surprising. McEnroe was the excitable mongrel belonging to Jo's family (he had been named by her two younger brothers, who were both totally fanatical about tennis), and Max was exactly the kind of child who got on with dogs. Actually, Kylie thought, he was a lot like a puppy himself in many ways.

As to Alex and Scott Kendall, they were Jo's fair-haired, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, always smiling, outgoing, athletic, all-American teenage brothers. As a general rule they got on well with pretty much anyone, as did Max (regardless of whether the feeling was mutual). Besides this, Kylie knew how fond aunts and uncles could be of their nieces and nephews. Eduardo, in spite of his extremely shaky relationship with Carl, thought Kevin was wonderful.

As to Carl, even he got on well with his nieces. Fairly well, anyway. He liked Conchita because he liked well-mannered children, and he was grudgingly fond of Rose, Kylie could tell. On the face of it they didn't get on, but he got pretty mad if anyone spoke badly of her.

After giving birth to Conchita, Kylie had felt very ill, and later she often wondered whether she had misremembered Carl's reaction to the arrival of his first niece. She vaguely remembered staggering into the hospital room from the bathroom, having just been spectacularly sick whilst in the middle of taking a shower. She had sensed people in the room, but had to climb onto the bed and take a few sips of water before she was able to register the familiar features of Beth, Kevin and Carl.

"Beth," she croaked, her throat aching from all that throwing up. "Am I supposed to feel this ill?"

"I think it varies, honey," Beth said sympathetically.

"She lost quite a bit of blood," Eduardo explained, touching Kylie's arm. "Conchita tore her a little bit on the way out – didn't she, babe?"

Kylie nodded. "She certainly did."

Then she noticed that Carl was holding Conchita. It wasn't that she couldn't be bothered to locate her baby upon returning to the room; she had just assumed, somehow, that Beth would have her. Was that sexist, to assume she'd be with the only woman in the company? Well, Kylie reasoned, the way she was feeling right now was a legitimate excuse for anything.

"Carlos," said Eduardo. "You done with her yet? Only I think Ky wants her back."

It was true. The urge Kylie was feeling to hold her baby was just overwhelming, and she realised that she was looking longingly at the tiny white bundle in Carl's arms. It was sweet of Eduardo to notice. She almost felt like crying. What was _that_ about?

"Hmm?" Carl looked up. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He carried Conchita over to Kylie, and slipped the newborn into her arms. "She's beautiful."

"Um." She'd never heard Carl speak that way before. "Yeah, she's gorgeous."

Conchita had been a vocal baby, always gurgling and making contented little noises. She had smiled a lot too, though for the first few weeks of her life most people said it was "just wind". Not Carl, though. He seemed to bond with her straightaway. Interestingly, though, he hadn't got off to such a flying start with Rose.

Kylie, the moment after she'd pushed Rose out of her body, had felt like a million dollars. When they were moved out of the delivery room, she had pulled on the jeans and oversized sweater she'd worn throughout most of her pregnancy and announced that she just _had_ to go and stretch her legs. Only then did she realise just how ill she'd felt after having Conchita. Now she felt ready to take a bus or the subway or even walk home, and maybe stop off at the supermarket or something on the way.

She went for a little walk around the hospital, but soon felt the lure of her new baby. When she returned, she found that Eduardo's family was already there, Conchita (then not quite three) with them. Again it was Carl who was holding the baby.

"Hi!" Kylie said brightly. "Hello, sweetheart! I've missed you!" She stooped and gave Conchita a crushing hug. "So you've met your baby sister. Isn't she gorgeous?"

"She's crying," said Carl.

There was no denying that. Rose, in her first hour of life, had cried rather a lot. Kylie strode over to Carl, took Rose from him and sat on the hospital bed.

"I'll stick a nipple in her mouth," she said bracingly. "That shut her up the last time."

Carl and Kevin looked away awkwardly as Kylie whipped out her left breast and Rose latched on. Now, two-and-a-half years later, though Kylie was enjoying watching her daughters grow up, breast-feeding was something she really missed. She looked wistfully down at Conchita and Rose, the former indulging Max in a game involving a blue foam ball while the latter watched disapprovingly.

"See that?" Garrett beamed proudly, as Max caught the ball expertly in both hands. "How many two year olds have hand-eye coordination like that?"

"Yeah, so, anyway," said Roland. "How was your vacation?"

"Good," said Kylie, wondering exactly how many times she would have to have this conversation. She planned later to take the girls to see her father, who had moved to Manhattan earlier in the year. God, she would have to tell _him_ she was married now. Yikes. "We had a lot of fun. Didn't we, girls?" she added.

"Yes," Conchita confirmed. Rose chose to withhold her opinion. "Tell them what you and Daddy did this morning, Mommy."

Without knowing why, Kylie said, "_You_ tell them, Chita."

"They got married."

Garrett and Roland both stared at Kylie for a moment, and then asked in perfect unison, "You got _what_?"

"Married," Kylie said patiently.

"Why?" asked Garrett.

"Why not?"

"Fair enough."

"Why didn't you tell us about it before?" asked Roland.

"Before it happened?" Kylie shrugged. "There was nothing to tell. We only invited a couple of people, so don't be offended or anything. We just wanted to keep it low-key."

"So are you having a party?" Garrett asked eagerly.

"Um… I hadn't thought of it."

"Jo and I are planning one to celebrate the adoption. You can share if you like."

"Thanks," said Kylie. "Roland, why are you so quiet?"

"I'm not quiet," argued Roland. He approached Kylie and embraced her warmly. "Congratulations."

"Don't congratulate _her_, Roland," Garrett deadpanned. "You aren't supposed to congratulate the woman."

"What?" Roland and Kylie asked in unison.

"You're only supposed to congratulate the man," Garrett told them matter-of-factly. "On procuring himself a good wife."

Kylie wrinkled her nose. "Where did you get that?"

"Something my grandmother says. It's wedding etiquette – you know, like the bride's parents inviting all the guests."

"So what, _I _don't deserve congratulations? That's stupid."

"It doesn't matter about _you_, Kylie," Garrett grinned annoyingly. "You're only a woman. You're just somebody's wife now – _he's_ the one who's gained something."

"So where _is_ Eduardo anyway?" Roland finally voiced the obvious question.

"He's telling Carl we got married."

"Eduardo's own brother doesn't know?" asked Roland, astonished. "Who else haven't you told?"

"Everyone," said Kylie, "except you and Janine. And Kevin witnessed it for us."

"Egon and Ray are around," offered Roland. "And the twins, obviously." He was referring to Egon and Janine's seven-year-old children, John and Eden. "You can tell all of them."

"I'll tell them when I see them," shrugged Kylie. "I should go and tell my dad. O-oh, I don't want to tell my dad," she added, sitting down heavily on a nearby armchair.

Conchita looked up. "Why don't you want to tell Grandpa?" she asked.

"He might be upset that I didn't invite him."

"You didn't invite anyone," Conchita pointed out. "Well. _Hardly_ anyone."

"True," Kylie conceded. "You'd like to go and see Grandpa, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," said Conchita. Again, Rose offered no opinion.

"Ok, sweetheart. I'll just nip and say hi to the grown-ups and then we'll go."

Kylie was even more apprehensive about this than she was letting on. She doubted now that her earlier assertion had been correct, when she told Eduardo that her father would not want to see her emulate the biggest mistake of his life. Steve Griffin knew as well as anyone that all marriages were different, and that his daughter was sensible enough not to marry the antithesis of the right person, as he had done. On reflection, Kylie realised, she probably should have asked him to witness her wedding. After all, he had moved to Manhattan to be closer to her and his granddaughters. He was hardly likely to find this latest news very encouraging.

Conchita and Rose had both been over a week old by the time Steve was able to come and meet them. He had felt very guilty about this when Conchita was born, and even guiltier when it was Rose, largely because she had been born on a Friday (Friday the thirteenth, in fact, which her parents thought was pretty cool) and there wasn't really any excuse for not getting away at the weekend.

When he had come to meet Conchita, Kylie was feeling much better than she had been, though still not a hundred percent, and she was trying to avoid sitting down as much as possible because it was extremely uncomfortable. Even if it _hadn't_ hurt less than labour but more than period cramps, she wouldn't want to pop her stitches.

Steve, like most of her family members, was absolutely mesmerised by Conchita. Kylie vaguely wondered if that blissfully stunned look on his face in any way resembled his reaction when she had been born. It was a little while before he could even speak. Soon enough, however, Conchita was back with her mother and Eduardo was bringing Steve a cup of coffee.

"How did you cope with the labour?" Steve asked, after a few minutes of small talk.

"Um." Kylie, on her feet and walking Conchita around the room, looked at him. She hadn't expected him to ask that. "I don't know. I think I just got on with it."

"She coped really well," said Eduardo. "She even did the last part without any pain relief. Crazy, but impressive."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to try taking the gas and air down there with me," shrugged Kylie. "And it doesn't touch the pain anyway. I think the midwife just stuck that tube in my mouth to stop me screaming."

"I'm glad you coped," said Steve. "I was a bit worried about it, to be honest."

Kylie frowned. "Why?"

"Well, Jill had a bit of trouble giving birth to you."

"So? I'm not Jill."

"I know, honey, but a lot of the problem was that she was small and you were a more or less average sized baby, believe it or not. You just didn't want to come out. She was pushing for well over an hour, and in the end - "

"Forceps, I know," Kylie interrupted. "Well, she never wanted me anyway."

"She did."

"Don't say that. She obviously didn't. I'll bet she was yelling at _you_ the whole time, wasn't she? She always blamed you whenever I caused her any kind of distress."

"Yes, well," Steve said awkwardly. "It was all very new and scary – I probably didn't support her as well as I should have."

"I know you did the best you knew how to do," said Kylie. Then, indicating Eduardo, she went on, "I never once felt the urge to say anything negative to Eddie. He was so good. I don't think I could have done it without him there."

x x x

"Keep breathing, dear," said Constantine's mother. "And push when you feel another pain. Constantine, get to the end of the bed and catch the baby when it comes out."

Constantine blinked. "Do _what_?"

"Connie, please!" wailed Sally.

"Where in God's name is that midwife?" fumed Constantine, as she trudged reluctantly down to the more unpleasant end of the bed.

Sally started screaming again, and was urged by Constantine's mother to push. Constantine shrank back instinctively when the top of the baby's head started to appear.

"How are things going down there, Constantine?" her mother asked calmly.

"Um, all right, I think. The baby's…" She stopped when, following a piercing scream from Sally, the baby's whole head slid into view. "Sally! This baby is _huge_!"

"I… I know," panted Sally.

"_How_ long have you been married to my brother?"

"Constantine, for goodness' sake!" snapped her mother. Then to Sally she said, "One more big push ought to do it."

"Mother!" exclaimed Constantine. "This baby is not premature!"

Sally's face was beginning to contort with pain once again. She ground her heels and hands down into the mattress and cried, "Get her out of here!"

"Get out, Constantine," her mother ordered.

Constantine was only too happy to oblige. She marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her, and was immediately accosted by Wolf-Christian.

"Connie, what's happening?" he demanded anxiously. "Has she…?"

A prolonged, agonised scream came from inside the bedroom, followed by silence, followed by the indignant wail of Sally's newborn baby. Wolf-Christian suddenly seemed to see through his sister, and his eyes welled with tears. Constantine stormed past him and managed to turn the nearest corner just in time to avoid her mother.

"Wolf-Christian!" she heard, in warbling tones. "You have a daughter!"

"No," muttered Constantine, letting her feet take her anywhere as long as it was away from her family, "you don't."

She walked some way through the house, for several minutes, and then stopped suddenly. Just where had she managed to end up, anyway? She had kept going down, she realised, and was now standing outside the wine cellar.

Constantine's eyes narrowed on the door. Was it coincidence she had brought herself down here? She thought about turning back, but was gripped by the certain knowledge that the baby upstairs was _not_ her niece.

_If ever there was a time to go back in there_, thought Constantine, _this is it_. And she pushed open the door.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

_Extreme Ghostbusters:_ **If That's What You Want**

Part 2

_Probably best to keep it simple_, Eduardo decided, as he stepped out of the subway train and onto the platform. _"Kylie and I got married this morning." _That would do. There was no point in trying to prepare for Carl's reaction. It could be more or less anything.

"Eduardo! Oh my God! Hi!"

The vaguely familiar voice dragged him out of the all too near future and back into the present. Standing at chin level was quite possibly the last person he had expected to see on that particular day. She didn't look very different from the last time he had seen her: thin, pale, red-haired and looking slightly embarrassed, as she always did.

"Bess, hi," he reacted, when he had finally accepted that it _was_ her. At first he just couldn't believe the coincidence. "How are you?"

"Good," said Bess. "I'm good. I'm just taking a break from work." There was silence for a few long seconds. "Would you like to come with me to get a coffee?"

"Um." Eduardo wondered whether she wanted or expected him to accept her invitation or not. It was possible she was just being polite and wanted him to say no. But, he remembered, she wasn't really like that. Besides, anything to delay the inevitable and keep him away from Carl for a few minutes was not to be sneezed at. "Sure, why not?"

"So," said Bess, once they were sitting at opposite sides of a less than pristine café table and each was looking at the other over the rim of a steaming polystyrene cup. "How have you been?"

"Good," said Eduardo. "I, um, I got married today."

Bess raised her eyebrows. "Really? So why aren't you with her now?"

"I was on my way to tell Carlos about it. You know, to get it over with. He doesn't know yet."

"Oh." Bess didn't look surprised. She well remembered Eduardo's bizarre relationship with his brother. "I guess I needn't be offended about not being invited."

"No, no, don't be. It was just small – you know, with a few close friends."

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah, it was."

"Do I know her?" asked Bess.

"Who?" said Eduardo. "Oh, my… yes, actually, it's Kylie."

"Kylie?" That one surprised her. "I never knew you were interested in her."

Eduardo shrugged. "I guess I'd learnt to hide it well."

"Was she the one you dumped me for?"

"Yes," he said apologetically, "actually, she was."

"Oh well." Bess managed a smile. "No shame in going out to the eventual winner."

"So… how about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

"Not right now. There was someone after you I kinda liked… but that didn't work out. Then there was this other guy last year… jerk. I'm giving men a rest for a while. I thought I'd maybe try having a career or something."

"A career, huh?" Eduardo cocked an eyebrow. "So what are you doing now?"

"I'm working for Pizza Hut."

Eduardo blinked. "How is that a career?"

Bess laughed. "I'm a payroll administrator. One day in about five or ten or a billion years, maybe I'll be running the whole payroll department. But right now I just pay all the delivery boys and waiters and people like that. And I also have to deal with subsequent queries. Like, if they think their pay is wrong, they call the office and I have to explain about tax and stuff. It's as dull as ditchwater, but it pays the bills."

"Somebody's gotta do it," Eduardo pointed out.

"True."

"How long have you been working for Pizza Hut?"

"Getting on for two years."

"Weird. All those times I took my kids to Pizza Hut, and you were paying the guy who took our order."

Bess blinked in surprise. "You took your _what_ to Pizza Hut?"

"My, um, kids. I got two little girls."

"Wow, really? Is Kylie their mother?"

Eduardo smiled slightly. "Of course Kylie's their mother."

"Sorry."

"It's ok."

"Aren't you going to show me a picture?"

"Sure, if you want me to."

Bess nodded. "Go for it."

Eduardo whipped his wallet out of his jean pocket and then riffled through the various pieces of paper in there until he came across a recent picture of his daughters.

"They're real pretty," said Bess, taking the photograph as he passed it across the table. "My God, the little one looks just like you!"

"That's Rose," said Eduardo, "and the older one is Conchita. They're five and two."

"Rose can't have been two when this was taken."

"She was. Just."

"No way."

"I'm not lying to you, Bess," Eduardo insisted. "She's small like her mom. Chita's normal sized."

"Like you."

"Yeah."

Bess handed back the photograph, and then spontaneously burst into tears. Eduardo froze, completely unable to react and wondering what he could possibly have said.

"I'm sorry," said Bess. She ran her hands over her eyes, and the tears disappeared as quickly as they had materialised. "I know how you feel about crying women."

"What's wrong?" Eduardo asked anxiously.

"Oh, nothing, really," mumbled Bess. "It's just… well, there's a chance I might not be able to have children."

"Oh. Wow. Bess, that's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, well, nothing's certain. And I've watched soap operas – being told you're barren doesn't mean anything." She choked out a dry laugh. "Anyway, I shouldn't cry about it. I've got no right – it's my fault anyway."

"How is it your fault?"

"Well, I had an abortion, and it turns out there were complications, and… well, you don't like hearing about that kind of stuff."

"I'm better at it than I used to be," said Eduardo. "I live with three women now."

"So you do." Thankfully she was smiling again. "You're doing the conventional bit already. Wife, two children… mortgage, maybe?"

"Only a small one." Steve Griffin had been a terrific source of financial help when they were moving home, besides which Eduardo and Kylie both had some inheritance from his father and her great-grandmother. "And my family isn't as conventional as you make it sound."

"I don't doubt it. I remember how unconventional Kylie was. So much so that Wanda wanted to recruit her into our little magic club."

Eduardo winced. "Don't remind me of that."

"Yeah, I know – definitely best forgotten. So… you're happy, then?"

"Extremely."

"I'm glad."

"Thanks."

"Well." Bess glanced at her watch. "That was way too long for a coffee break – I have to get back to paying pizza delivery boys. And you have to go break the good news to Carl," she added brightly.

"Yeah," Eduardo said warily. "This ought to be interesting."

x x x

Conchita and Rose were looking through a pile of old family photograph albums in the middle of the floor. Kylie was nursing an open can of Diet Coke and looking expectantly at her father. Steve was clutching a cup of coffee with a stunned look on his face.

"You got _what_?" he said at last.

Kylie rolled her eyes. "Married."

"Why didn't you…?"

"Tell you?"

"Well. Yes."

"I'm telling you now," Kylie shrugged dismissively. "The wedding wasn't a big deal. It was just small."

"In front of a judge with two witnesses," Conchita added helpfully. "Not including Rosie and me."

"Who, um, who were the witnesses?" Steve asked carefully.

"Kevin," said Kylie, "and a friend of mine."

"Which friend?"

"No one you know."

"Leonard," offered Conchita.

"See? No one you know," Kylie said hurriedly. "Look, don't be offended – we didn't tell anyone. We didn't tell Eduardo's mom either."

"I wonder how _she'll_ react."

"I expect she'll either be thrilled or furious."

"So are you happy?" asked Steve.

"I am happy, yes," said Kylie.

"I'm glad."

"You think it was a good move, then?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"No," Kylie agreed, "but tell me anyway."

"I just want you to be happy, honey," Steve told her.

"Well, I am."

"Good. I'm so pleased." He put down his coffee mug, scooted along the sofa and hugged her. "Congratulations."

"Garrett's grandmother says you're only supposed to congratulate the man," said Conchita.

"I hope you weren't taking that seriously, Chita," Kylie said sternly. Then she looked at Steve and asked, "Did _you_ ever hear that one?"

"It sounds vaguely familiar," said Steve.

"Ooh!" Conchita exclaimed suddenly. "Wedding pictures!"

"_Wedding_ pictures?" Kylie moved off the sofa, away from her father's arms, and knelt on the floor with her daughters and the photo albums. "Dad, you _kept_ these? How morbid."

"Come on, Kylie, your grandfather paid six hundred dollars for the photographer," said Steve. "He demanded his wedding present back when we go divorced, so I figure I should keep those pictures on ice, just in case."

"She's pretty," Conchita remarked, examining the pictures of the grandmother she had met only once, as a very young baby.

"Six hundred dollars for a bunch of photos?" Kylie pulled a face. "How much did the whole wedding cost?"

"Um. I'm not telling you."

"What a complete and total and utter waste of money."

"Obviously it didn't work out in the end," reasoned Steve, "but it was a good day. We were happy then."

"Yeah. You married the woman you thought you loved and she got the big flashy wedding she was marrying you for."

"Kylie."

"What?"

"Things used to be different."

"So you say."

"You could have had a big wedding if you'd wanted to, you know," said Steve. "I would have found the money from somewhere. You only had to ask."

"Dad, I only ask you for money when it's important," said Kylie. "I mean, who needs all this?" She gestured towards the photographs: Jill; Jill and Steve; Jill and the bridesmaids; Jill holding her bouquet in her left hand; Jill holding her bouquet in her right hand; the makeup before it was on Jill's face; Jill's shoes in an artistic little pose (seriously). "Who _wants_ all of this?"

"In my experience," said Steve, "almost everyone."

"Well, not me and not Eduardo. I never wanted a big wedding," said Kylie, suddenly losing her contemptuous tone. "Not even when I was a kid. Eddie and I got married without breaking the bank, because the wedding isn't the important part."

x x x

"You got _what_?" Carl's eyes were practically popping out on stalks.

"Married," Eduardo repeated calmly.

"Married. Right. And I suppose this was _her_ idea?"

"Well… yeah."

"Of course it was." He put a hand to his forehead and began pacing the room. "Jesus, Eddie, how stupid _are_ you? Think about this! Why would she suddenly decide to marry you after all this time? It makes no sense, unless she's planning to leave you."

Eduardo blinked. "How does _that_ make sense?"

"Because now when she decides to go, she gets half of everything you own!"

"No," Eduardo said reasonably, "because that would mean she'd get three quarters of everything. Half of it is already hers."

"Right, right, but you'll still have to pay child support. If you weren't married you'd have no legal obligation towards those kids."

"And no parental rights at all, you told me. If we weren't married she could move away with them and not tell anyone her address, and I couldn't do anything about it."

"No," Carl agreed grudgingly, "you couldn't."

"But if we were married I'd have to have access. I could even fight her for custody."

"You'd never get custody, Eddie. Fathers don't get custody unless the mother is an unfit parent. And proving that in court wouldn't be easy, whether it's true or not."

Eduardo decided to let that one slide, saying dismissively, "Why are we even _having _this conversation? I don't think Kylie is planning on leaving me any time soon."

"Then why marry you _now_, huh? _Huh_?"

"Because she's ready now."

"She's _ready_ now. You let that woman walk all over you, Eddie. She has double standards."

"She has what?"

"Double standards, Eddie, double standards! If _you_ try telling _her_ what to do, you're chauvinistic, because she's _her own person_. But _you're_ not _your_ own person, are you! I'll bet she makes you take your feet off the coffee table, doesn't she!"

"No."

"But _she_ makes all the decisions. _She_ decided you were going to live in _my_ house after you knocked her up. _She_ decided you weren't going to get married. _She_ decided you were going to move. _She _decided you were going to have another child. _She_ decided you _were_ going to get married. You're her slave, Eddie!"

"_She_ has a name, Carlos. And I'm just trying to make her happy."

"Right, right," Carl said again, with a dismissive wave of the hand. "And she _is_ happy, because _she_ gets everything her own way! You know what? I take it all back. She's not going anywhere. Your marriage will be a complete and total success because my brother's a doormat!"

Eduardo scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You wanna know the secret to a successful marriage, Eddie? One partner has to be prepared to be completely subservient. Otherwise you've got no chance."

"Oh come on, that's not true."

"Sure it is. Look at you and your wife. You're still together because you're happy to let her walk all over you. And Mom and Dad – she hardly even _talked_ when he was around, and when she did it was only to ask him if he wanted anything. And me and Beth! Beth has been completely subservient for the past twenty-one _years_, and we were together for all that time! And then what happened? She finally snapped, and now she's not prepared to do it anymore! _And my marriage is a failure_!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Carlos?"

"Beth's gone, Eddie! She's left me!"

"_What_?" He couldn't have heard right, surely. "When the hell did this happen?"

"This morning. Probably round about the same time you were getting _married_."

"I got married at eleven."

"Oh. Beth left around ten."

Eduardo looked at the ground. Kevin had been in his apartment at ten.

"Does Kevin know?"

Carl shook his head. "He's been out all day. I don't know _what_ he's been doing. Damn kid never tells me anything."

Eduardo bit his lip. Then, quite suddenly, his brother seemed to fall to pieces before his very eyes. Carl's frown melted down into a hangdog expression; he collapsed onto the nearest armchair, and began to weep openly.

Eduardo froze. He hadn't expected this. He didn't like tears at the best of times, and this completely threw him. He could cope with crying children, but that was where he drew the line. Crying women were bad enough (and he'd had one of those already). Men that one might reasonably expect to cry were too much. But Carl… hell, Eduardo couldn't even remember Carl shedding a tear when their father had died.

"What am I going to, Eddie?" bawled the older brother. "You gotta help me!"

"What? How?" squeaked Eduardo, in panicked tones.

"I don't know." Carl sniffed, and wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "You're with a strong independent woman who isn't prepared to cook your dinner every night. How do you make _her_ stay?"

"I… I… don't know."

"Eddie, for God's sake, you must _know_!"

"Well, I… I don't 'make her stay'. I just… you know… I treat her right."

"But _how_, Eddie?" pressed Carl, sniffing again. "How do you _do_ that?"

"Well, y'know, Kylie isn't Beth," Eduardo faltered. "What Kylie wants isn't necessarily what Beth wants. Women aren't all the same."

Carl snorted. "So they say."

"Well, it's true."

"You know what?" Carl, thankfully, was no longer in tears. He seemed to be completely himself again as he stood up to his full impressive height. "This is all your _wife's_ fault."

Eduardo frowned. "What?"

"She's been filling Beth's head with all of her feminist shit."

"Feminism isn't shit. All feminism means is that women should have all the same rights as men."

"Hey, look, I'm all for women's lib. But _some_ people take it too far. Your wife thinks that just because _she_ wouldn't be happy staying home looking after the place while you earn all the money, everybody else should think the same way she does."

"Carlos," Eduardo said scathingly. "Beth can think for herself."

"Don't give me your lip, Eddie! This never would have happened if it hadn't been for your wife!"

"Stop calling her that! She's not just _my wife_ – she's a person in her own right."

"Beautiful," drawled Carl. "She's brainwashing my entire family!"

"Marriages don't break from the outside, Carlos."

"Is that another one of _your wife's_ little expressions?"

"I'm going home."

"No, Eddie, wait!"

Eduardo stopped in his tracks, beginning to panic now. "What?" he asked warily.

"You gotta help me, Eddie!"

"I… how?"

"Well," Carl said desperately, "you could talk to her for me."

"What good would that do?"

"She listens to you!"

"She does?"

"Sure she does!"

"Dude, calm down," said Eduardo. "I don't even know where she is."

Carl sniffed. "Neither do I."

"Oh. Well, I… I'm sure she'll get in touch when she's had time to, to… you know, cool off or something."

"And then what?" pressed Carl. "What do I say to her to make her come back?"

"Carlos, I don't know!" Eduardo returned heatedly. "It's _your_ marriage!"

For the first time ever, or at least as far as Eduardo could remember, Carl was speechless. He blinked a few times, and then suddenly a faint glimmer of hope swept over his face as the front door clicked open. However it disappeared moments later when Kevin strolled into the room.

"Hi," he said brightly.

"Hello, son," Carl answered limply. "Guess what Eddie did today."

Kevin looked uncomfortable. "Um…"

"He got _married_."

"Oh… wow," Kevin said shakily. "Congratulations. That's really… Oh, screw this. Dad, I was there."

"You were _what_?"

"I was there. Eduardo invited me to the wedding."

"We needed two witnesses," Eduardo explained, after a few seconds had passed, unnerved by his brother's silence. "Ky and I invited one each."

"Jesus, Eddie, she can't even get _married_ like a normal person."

"Dad, does it bother you that I was there?" Kevin asked nervously.

Carl shrugged. "I hardly see that it matters."

"Oh," said Kevin. "Good. Dad, I…" – he took a very deep breath. "I'm going to travel for a little while on the inheritance your father left me. And I'm not going to become an auxiliary cop. And I'm not going to the police academy in four years."

"_WHAT_?" bellowed Carl. Eduardo and Kevin both shrank back instinctively. "Why the hell not?"

"I don't want to be a cop," Kevin replied simply.

"Oh, you don't wanna be a cop," retorted Carl. "So what _do_ you wanna be? A slacker? A bum? A Ghostbuster?"

"Dad, Jesus, there are plenty of other jobs out there," Kevin said defensively. "And I don't have to decide right now."

"So instead," bristled Carl, "you're going to squander all the money you _do _have on 'travelling'! Where the hell are you going to go to, Kevin, huh? Jesus Christ, my father left you that money for your _future_!"

Eduardo had a strong suspicion that he would be dragged into this argument if he stuck around, so he stole quietly out of the room, hoping that Carl was too blinded by rage to notice. Once he was safely through the door and in the hallway, he realised that he needed to use the bathroom anyway, so he went upstairs.

When Eduardo emerged two minutes later, Kevin was walking across the landing, looking rather red in the face. Eduardo was surprised; he had expected that argument to last for hours.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

Kevin simply shrugged.

"Was that the news you didn't want to tell me?"

"Yeah," Kevin confessed. "I'm sorry, I just - "

"Don't apologise, Kev. I think it's a great idea."

Kevin blinked. "You _do_?"

"Sure I do. You're eighteen, you've got a few thousand dollars to spare and you're probably never going to have an opportunity to do it again. Go for it, I say."

"But don't you mind?" asked Kevin. "I mean, it's your dad's money."

"No, it's _your_ money."

"Well… thanks."

"No problem."

"So anyway," said Kevin, glancing at his surroundings as he suddenly seemed to realise that something was missing. "Where's Mom?"

x x x

"Hi, how was your day? Wow, you look really… weird."

"Thanks," said Bess, falling into the welcoming embrace of the sofa. She wasn't really in the mood for her roommate of nine years right now, but was too polite to say so. "I just got yelled at by a pizza delivery boy. These people seem to think that we deliberately keep money from them. I mean, what do they think we _do_ with it?"

"People are total numbskulls," Wanda said sagely.

"Yeah." Oh, what the hell? She might as well tell her. "Guess who I ran into on my coffee break."

"Who?"

"Eduardo."

"Your ex-boyfriend Eduardo?" Wanda pulled a face. "Bad luck."

"It was fine," said Bess. "We had coffee and he told me what he did today. Guess what _that_ was."

"Cracked onto some girl who wasn't interested, bedded her best friend and then dropped her like a hot brick?"

"No. He married Kylie."

"_Kylie_?" Wanda ceased standing over Bess, instead sitting down next to her. "Well, I like the cheek of that!"

"Why?"

"Well. I mean, _Kylie_! Why _Kylie_? He was never interested in _Kylie_ before. She's not even pretty. _And_ she's short."

"Perhaps he likes a woman who makes him feel tall."

"Seriously, Bess. What does _she_ have that you don't have?"

"Ha!" Bess laughed dryly. "His children."

Wanda leapt to her feet as though she had received an electric shock. "_What_?"

"They've got two little girls. The older one is five. She must have been an accident, mustn't she, because they still would have been at college when she got pregnant."

"Ah, well." Wanda sat down again. "That explains it."

"No, no." Bess shook her head. "There must be, you know, some depth to it. They got married today."

"So he had coffee with _you_ on the same day he married _her_. God, what a prick. He never _could_ keep his fly zipped, of course."

"But Wanda, he _did_ keep his fly zipped."

"This time."

Bess raised her eyebrows. "You think he wants to have an affair with me?"

"I don't doubt it for a minute. And any other bit of skirt he can get his hands on."

"You're too hard on him. He dumped me because there wasn't any future in it, but obviously he and Kylie really have something."

"Bess. He knocked her up."

"Yeah." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "He's not the kind of guy who'd just up and leave his pregnant girlfriend. You've got to give him that."

"Well, move over Saint Francis of Assisi," Wanda said acidly. "Bess, come on, it's obvious. She trapped him by getting pregnant, she made him marry her today and now he's venting his frustrations by starting an affair with _you_. You know as well as I do he thinks with his dick, just like the rest of his shit-faced gender."

"Wanda," said Bess. "Do you know what you are?"

"No, Elizabeth, what am I?"

"You're a female chauvinist."

x x x

"There you are. Finally," said Kylie, as Eduardo entered the apartment. She was on the sofa, reading a book with her cat Pagan purring on her lap. "Beth's here."

"Beth's _what_?"

"Here. She's playing with the girls in their room. Did Carl tell you she left?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that great?"

"_What_?"

Typically Beth chose that moment to walk in, led by Conchita and Rose. "Eduardo, hi!" said the former, forcing a smile, as the girls crossed the room to greet their father (he hadn't got much further than the front door yet).

"Hi," said Eduardo, stooping to hug his small daughters. "Hi, you two. Beth, I, um, just saw Kevin."

Beth's synthetic smile vanished. "Is he ok?"

"He had a fight with Carlos. And then I had to tell him you'd… you know… left."

"Oh no." Beth sat down heavily next to Kylie. "Perhaps I should go home."

"No!" exclaimed Kylie, making Pagan jump out of his skin. "Er, I mean… I said you can stay for as long as you want. And Kevin's eighteen – he can cope without you."

"Kylie." Eduardo, who was still crouching, rose to his full height. "Can I please have a word?"

"All right," said Kylie. She pushed Pagan off her lap, stood up and let Eduardo shepherd her into their bedroom, because there were no secrets between the living room and the kitchen.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he demanded in a stage whisper.

"She needs somewhere to stay," Kylie said defensively.

"She wants to go home."

"If she goes home now, Carl will sucker her back in. She needs to stay away."

"Why?" asked Eduardo, desperately trying to understand Kylie's reasoning. "If she goes home, they can kiss and make up and everything will be fine."

"Everything will _not_ be fine," retorted Kylie. "Carl will go back to treating her like a doormat and she'll be miserable."

"She's miserable now."

"She's just worried about Kevin, but that'll pass. She _can't_ go back to Carl – she's doing the right thing here."

"Says you," snapped Eduardo. "Kylie, you can't encourage her to leave him for good, ok? You just _can't_. They're getting back together."

Kylie frowned. "They are not!"

"Yes, they are. I've known her since I was three years old. She married Carlos when I was five. She loves him and he loves her. End of story."

"She doesn't love him anymore. She's leaving him."

"No she's not. She's going home and they are going to work it out."

"Home?" squeaked Kylie. "Home to that dictator husband of hers? No way – I won't let her."

For a moment, Eduardo didn't know what to say. A few of Carl's earlier assertions flitted through his mind like grasshoppers: Kylie thought her way of thinking was the only way; she had been influencing Beth; it was her fault Beth had decided to leave…

"This is stupid," Eduardo said at last. "She'll figure it out for herself."

Kylie's eyes dropped slightly. "Right."

"And if she wants to go home, you mustn't discourage her."

"Fine. But if she wants to stay, _you_ mustn't discourage her."

"Of course."

"Ok." Kylie raised her eyes to look at him, and placed her hands on his elbows. "Why don't you give Chita her bath while I organise the girls' dinner?"

Eduardo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why don't _you_ give Chita her bath while _I_ organise the girls' dinner?"

"Because I've been with her all day and you haven't. Come on, Eddie – what am I going to say to Beth with Rose there?"

"She's not coming with me?"

"She had a bath this morning," Kylie reminded him.

"All right," Eduardo conceded. "Hey."

"What?"

"I love you."

He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her, squeezing her behind in an overtly sexual gesture. It _was_ getting towards their wedding night, after all. So far the day hadn't been quite how Eduardo had imagined it would be. Nor Kylie, for that matter, and she didn't know the half of it.

"Wow," she said, looking slightly flustered, when he broke the embrace.

"Mmm." He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I'll go start that bath."

x x x

It had all started off so innocently. Constantine, then aged seven, had found a loose floorboard in her father's precious wine cellar. So, being a child and having found a loose floorboard she assumed no one else knew about, she had desperately wanted something – anything – to hide. But she didn't have anything worth hiding. All she had ever possessed in her life were dolls, dresses and all the ingredients required to make an aesthetically pleasing little cross-stitch pattern.

In the end she'd had no choice (or so it seemed to her at the time) but to hide the doll that would be most missed. She quickly decided on one of the ones that had been hand-stitched by her domestic goddess of a grandmother. Her mother, Constantine knew, would be devastated if one of those went missing. She chose the last one her grandmother had made before she died. That doll, unlike most of them, meant something to her, and she wasn't sure about hiding it. But she'd know where it was.

After that, Constantine took to hiding needles and thread down there as well, when she realised what a futile hobby sewing was. She wasn't even mending anything that was broken – just creating clumsy little pictures of things she didn't even like. The first few times it happened, her nanny wrote it off as carelessness. But, inevitably, the seventh or eighth time a needle went missing, Constantine was (quite rightly) accused of hiding them. And she took a severe beating for every absent needle.

One day Constantine went down to the wine cellar, picked up the little doll that her mother had finally given up crying over and imagined it was her nanny. She bashed its head against the wall, stamped on it a few times and then, with an impressive grasp of poetic justice, she had stuck all of her hidden needles into various parts of the unfortunate little doll's anatomy.

To this day, Constantine was not quite convinced that she had been responsible for her nanny's untimely death at the hands, or rather the hooves, of a spooked horse. The perfect timing could just have been an incredible coincidence. But the coincidence had spooked her as a child, and she had never touched the doll again.

A few years later, she started to read about witchcraft (presented from the point of view of those who thought it was bad, evil and wrong), and stumbled across a short passage explaining the use of dolls to inflict curses on people. She was just into her teens then, and no longer frightened by her possible strange power, but rather she was fascinated by it. All she could think then was that the doll in the wine cellar was something to bear in mind, should she ever need it again.

Constantine pulled away the loose floorboard and fumbled around in the darkness. She winced as she caught her fingers on a few of the needles down there, which still seemed to be in near-perfect condition. She didn't hold out much hope for the doll, though. Still, she felt around in the cold earth until her hand fell upon what felt like a scrap of fabric.

The doll, astonishingly, was still in one piece. It was a bit ragged around the edges and it had lost its colour, but it was still smiling. Constantine stared in amazement. She hadn't really expected it to survive eleven-odd years down there. She could only think that maybe it really _did_ have some magical property to it. And if it did, she decided, she was going to use it again. If it had worked the last time, it had to work this. She hated Sally more than she had ever hated that goddamn nanny.

Constantine bent forward slightly and probed the ground carefully, looking for one of those needles that had stabbed her. However she stopped and jumped to her feet, still clutching the doll, when she heard the ominous sound of the door creaking open.

x x x

Eduardo wandered into the bedroom, having just helped Beth to settle on the sofa with some pillows and a blanket. He found Kylie in the process of wrapping herself up in her towelling robe.

"You'll never guess who I ran into before I went to see Carlos," said Eduardo.

Kylie raised her eyebrows. "Who?"

"Bess."

"Huh? Oh, Bess! Sorry – it's a bit confusing with Beth in the other room."

Eduardo smiled crookedly. "Yeah."

"Bess? Really? Wow, that's a coincidence, seeing as you were just talking about her this morning."

"I know."

"So… what happened?"

"I realised I never should have let her go and made mad, passionate love to her behind a dumpster."

"You're hilarious today, aren't you?" Kylie said dryly.

"We spent a few minutes drinking coffee and caught up."

"So how is she?"

"I'm not sure. She seemed ok, I guess."

"Did you tell her you married me?"

"Of course I did."

"Just wondered," said Kylie. "So… nothing happened?"

"Like what?" asked Eduardo.

"Like, she didn't say she was still in love with you or anything?"

"No. She's not still in love with me."

"Good." She touched his arm lightly as she walked past him. "I'll be back in a few minutes, babe, ok?"

Kylie was on her way to the bathroom, but decided to pop in on Beth first.

"Hi," she said. "Are you comfortable? I know it's not exactly a bed, but…"

"It's fine, thank you," said Beth. She forced a smile, which quickly vanished. "Kylie, what am I going to do next?"

"I don't know." Kylie approached and gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Sleep on it, huh? We can talk about it tomorrow. If that's what you want."

Kylie then went to the bathroom, cleaned her teeth and stood under the shower for a few minutes. When she returned to Eduardo she found him sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, catatonic and with a blank expression on his face.

"Are you ok, babe?" asked Kylie.

"Hmm?" Eduardo looked up in surprise. "Oh, hi. She had an abortion."

"What?"

"Bess told me she had an abortion. I was just wondering if it was mine."

"Oh." At first Kylie didn't know quite what to say. She perched on the edge of the bed next to him and asked, "She didn't mention dates, or…?"

"No, nothing like that. She _did_ say there were two other guys after I finished with her. It's as likely to be one of them as me, I guess."

"You could ask her."

"Well, even if I _was_ going to see her again, I think I'd rather not know."

"Fair enough. Y'know, if I had an abortion without even telling the guy I was pregnant, I don't think I'd then tell him about it eight-and-a-half years later."

"That's a good point," said Eduardo. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now, I suppose."

"I suppose not."

Kylie waited a few moments, thinking it appropriate to exercise a little decorum, given what had just been said. Then, when she thought an appropriate amount of time had elapsed, she sidled up next to him and began to kiss him hungrily, climbing onto his lap until she was straddling him.

"Um, Kylie," said Eduardo, jerking his head back. "I… can't."

Kylie frowned. "What do you mean you 'can't'?"

"I can't… do that… with Beth here," Eduardo said weakly.

Kylie cocked an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely."

"It never bothered you when we were living in Carl's house."

"That was different."

"How?"

"Um. I was younger then… there was a whole bathroom between us… I don't know. I'm sorry – please don't give me a hard time."

"All right." Kylie dismounted, and sat a chaste few inches away from him. "Wow, it's actually true – you really _do_ stop having sex after you get married."

"I'm sorry," Eduardo said again.

"Don't sweat it. Wow. I wonder how long she'll stay."

"I think," said Eduardo, "that depends on whether she goes back to Carlos or not."

Kylie narrowed her eyes on his face. "This isn't some kind of protest to discourage me from butting in, is it? The sooner she goes back to Carl the sooner you'll start screwing me again?"

"Kylie. I wouldn't do that."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. Well." She craned her neck and kissed him again. "'Night. I love you."

"I love you too, babe."

As she leaned over to switch off the lamp on her side of the bed, Kylie realised that she was tired anyway, as well she might be. If she was too tired to read she was probably too tired to consummate her marriage with any degree of concentration.

It was unusual for Eduardo not to want to make love. He was usually as keen as she was, or keener, and this was the first time he had claimed that circumstances were hindering his sex drive. But Kylie decided it was no real cause for concern. She knew she couldn't do it if her father was in the apartment, and Eduardo's relationship with Beth was probably closer than that.

Sharing a bed had its problems in August. Kylie wriggled out of her towelling robe and kicked her half of the thin cotton sheet onto Eduardo, who shifted slightly and then threw the sheet off the bed altogether. Kylie, as she lay drifting into the first stage of sleep, tried to remember how they had got around that problem eight Junes ago, the first time they had slept together.

It was a nice memory, and it made her smile. As far as Kylie could recall she had not been put off by the hot weather, or even noticed it (she didn't know about him). She didn't know quite what she had expected from taking Eduardo into her bed, but whatever it was, the reality was something different. At first she had felt a strange combination of never wanting it to end, and being too nervous to want to continue.

Clichéd as it sounds, however, it felt right. As they kissed and touched each other, Eduardo's unhurried manner encouraged Kylie to relax and she quickly found that she hated the idea of stopping this. And, as it transpired, she wasn't disappointed, though not quite in the way of an idealised Hollywood movie. It wasn't like that. There was no miraculous connection that told him exactly where to touch her and vice-versa. Rather she was pleasantly surprised by the way he treated her, especially when he acknowledged his ignorance and whispered, "Tell me what you want."

She was touched more than anything else. On the few occasions that she had done this in the past, the guy had always been arrogant enough to assume he knew exactly what he was doing, as though her body was exactly the same as every other female body he had ever encountered. She had tried giving them some guidance a couple of times, but they hated that, so after a while she took to just lying back and hoping they might be lucky enough to hit one or two of the right spots. And if not, well, she would lie back and think of England. She hadn't liked being so passive, but now that she was actually being asked, and by someone she really wanted this to work with…

"Oh," said Kylie, utterly embarrassed by the mere thought of articulating what she wanted him to do to her. "I don't know."

She was further impressed when he didn't push but simply carried on doing what he'd been doing, going slowly, watching and listening and feeling for her responses. They met a few snags on the way, and Pagan jumped on top of them at one point, but they had laughed it off (Kylie was glad he could do that – it helped her to relax) and carried on. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than she had ever dared to hope (and she'd thought about it more often than she would care to admit).

Another Hollywood myth was dispelled when they happened to wake together in the night, drifted into each other's arms and started kissing. Things were just hotting up again when Kylie realised that she really needed to pee, and had to excuse herself.

"Sorry," she whispered, not wanting to break the mood with too much sound, as she climbed back into bed afterwards.

"It's ok," said Eduardo. "I have to go too."

When he returned they made love for the second time, and it was better. And nowadays, Kylie reflected, it was better still. They pretty much had it down pat. Kylie lay there, still not quite managing to fall asleep, and congratulated herself on marrying a considerate lover. And this train of thought, strangely enough, led her back to Carl. Beth had implied in their earlier conversation, while Eduardo was with Carl, that bad sex was one of the ways in which Carl had proved to be a disappointing husband. She couldn't talk about it explicitly, though. Bless her.

Kylie rolled over, and watched Eduardo's shape through the darkness. She remembered all the "conditions" she had thrown at him shortly after he accepted her proposal some two months earlier: no trying to take charge; no offloading all of the domestic tasks onto her; no expecting her just to perform in bed… Basically, Kylie realised, she had been warning him not to turn into a mediocre version of Carl. Like he would ever do that.

Smiling, she reached out and touched his hand lightly. His fingers were twitching slightly, while the rest of his body was apparently under total paralysis. Kylie knew something about the stages of sleep, and she could imagine his eyelids fluttering. He was dreaming already.

x x x

**Monday 28th August 2006: 11.00 a.m.**

Eduardo pushed open his front door, kicked off his shoes and trudged into his home on hot, throbbing feet. He threw himself onto the sofa and, right on cue, his wife appeared in the doorway that led through to the kitchen.

"Hi, honey." As ever, he spoke first.

"Hello, darling. I was just starting lunch. Does roast beef sound good?"

"Yeah, great."

"How was your shift at work?"

"Oh, you know, the usual."

"Can I get you anything?"

"I could murder a beer."

"Ok, baby."

She spun on her heel and trotted back to the kitchen, from whence she had come. Where, quite frankly, she spent most of her life. She returned moments later with a cold beer in her hand and the same old perky smile on her face.

"Thanks, toots." Eduardo took the beer. "Hey." He grabbed her hand as she made to leave. "Kiss me."

She did.

"Where's Nico?" asked Eduardo.

"He's in his room."

"Fetch him down here for me, will you?"

"Ok, honey."

She trotted off once again, and quickly returned at the heels of a lanky dark-haired boy of about eight years. Eduardo smiled at his son. He loved Nico like crazy, and was quietly relieved to have done what Carlos did and sired a son his late father would be proud of. Nico was growing up to be confident, assertive and independent: everything a man ought to be.

Eduardo was glad that his and Carl's influence seemed to be rubbing off on Nico, and the boy's mother's touchy-feely methods didn't seem to be having too much of an effect on him. The brothers had been getting on a lot better since Eduardo got married. Carlos had taken it as a good sign that she had dropped out of college to marry. It was a sign of a dedicated wife, apparently.

Of course, Eduardo knew she had done it for the baby rather than for him. He hadn't told his family it was a shotgun wedding; they seemed to assume Nico had been conceived on the wedding night, or thereabouts. Fortunately for that little deceit, he had been born a few weeks late (early, Eduardo's extended family believed, though not as early as he might have been). In fact the labour had been induced, as the pregnancy was perceived to be getting dangerously past its expiration date.

On the day of the scheduled induction Eduardo had stood by his wife, feeling extremely awkward, not having been at all thoroughly prepared for this. "You just have to hold her hand through it," his mother had said breezily. "She's the one who has to do all the hard work. Don't you worry about it." But he _was_ worried. When his wife was given the hormone to kick-start the contractions, they came on very strong very quickly, and Eduardo wished he knew what to do and/or say when she was squeezing the life out of his hand and begging for stronger pain relief.

The midwife, who had beads in her hair and had never had a baby, was reluctant to fetch an anaesthetist with a needle full of epidural. It was Eduardo who finally persuaded her. After the midwife broke her waters and the contractions came even stronger, his wife was obviously in unbearable pain and he was beginning to feel guilty for making her pregnant in the first place. So the epidural arrived and Eduardo felt a strong sense of relief when, twenty minutes later, his wife announced in hugely grateful tones that she was blissfully numb below the waist.

The next few hours were uncomfortable. Eduardo didn't really know what to say. His wife, no longer having to try and get herself through the ordeal of that ridiculously intense pain, didn't know what to say either. Or perhaps she did, but as a rule she only spoke when spoken to. Eduardo felt compelled to look away when the midwife was "examining" her, as she so tactfully put it, which was bizarre. It wasn't as though he hadn't "examined" her himself on several occasions.

And then, finally, "Ok, you're ten centimetres dilated. You can start pushing."

The couple looked at each other, and registered the fear in each other's faces. A baby. Shit. He was totally unprepared for this.

She was hooked up to a monitor that showed a little green line, which fluctuated whenever a contraction came on. Husband, wife and midwife all stared at the contraption. Each time the green line began to fold in on itself, the midwife exclaimed, "Push!" Eduardo just stood back and watched his wife as she screwed up her face and seemed to be trying to push all the little veins out of her head.

He remembered some more of his mother's sage advice. "Don't worry about what to do with the baby when it comes. That's woman's work. You just worry about when it's grown up a bit. If it's a boy, you have to teach him how to be a man. If it's a girl… well, then you just have to love her. Her mother and I will teach her everything she needs to know."

As the baby's head started to appear, and Eduardo almost felt like fainting, he began to hope it was a boy. He wasn't sure he wanted a child whose upbringing he would have no real part of, and in this city he didn't fancy the chances of a girl who had been raised by someone with his mother's standards, inspired by a culture so far in space and time from late twentieth century New York. She might end up like –

"It's a boy!"

"Oh my God!" Tears came to the new mother's eyes as her baby boy, still coated in blood and a few other unpleasant substances, was placed in her arms. Eduardo was stunned. He had assumed the baby would be taken away and cleaned up. "Hey, little guy! I'm your mommy!"

As though in a trance, Eduardo crossed the room and stared down at his son. _His_ son. He couldn't quite believe it.

"Mr. Rivera," said the midwife, handing him a dangerously sharp looking double-handled object. "Would you like to cut the cord?"

The baby, Eduardo now realised, was still attached to his mother. The midwife pinched the cord in two places, and Eduardo cut the part between her fingers. He and his wife then gazed lovingly into the eyes of their totally bewildered son while the midwife got on with the unpleasant business of delivering the placenta. Eduardo looked at his wife, and thought she was probably pretending that nothing was going on down there. The epidural was most likely still in effect, he realised.

"Hold him," she offered.

Eduardo had had some experience with babies. Well, one baby, but he hadn't been allowed to hold Kevin very often, or for very long periods of time, when he was nine and ten. Still he took his son, very awkwardly, and stared at him in utter amazement, barely noticing the detritus rubbing off on his clothes. It was incredible. He hadn't expected to love him so much. He had never felt anything quite like this before. He didn't feel so much love even for –

"Hey." At last Eduardo found his voice. "Hey there, little guy."

"Hey, Dad," beamed Nico.

"Hey, _chico_," Eduardo greeted his son with a smile. "What are you doing inside on a day like this? You should be out there enjoying what's left of the summer."

"I was making a start on my homework," said Nico.

"Making a _start_?" echoed his mother, her eyes widening.

"Nico," said Eduardo, "homework is for geeks. I never did homework, and it never did me any harm. You got a problem?" he added, looking at his wife as he caught her pained expression.

She hung her head. "No."

Eduardo turned his attention back to his son. "What say you and me go kick a ball around while your mom fixes lunch?"

"Ok, Dad."

He threw back his head and downed the rest of his beer. "Good boy."

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

_Extreme Ghostbusters:_ **If That's What You Want**

Part 3

"BETH! What the hell are you _doing_?"

"I'm making breakfast," Beth said defensively.

"Well _stop_ making breakfast." Kylie marched through the kitchen doorway and snatched the two slices of bread from Beth's hands, and then pointedly dropped them into the toaster herself. "_I'll_ make breakfast. You're a guest."

"But it seems the least I can do after you let me stay last night."

"Come on, Beth, I said you were welcome to stay. How did you sleep?"

"Terrible. Not because of the couch," she added hastily. "The couch was really, really comfortable."

"It's ok, I understand." Kylie touched her arm. "What are you going to do next?"

"I don't know."

"Hey babe," said Kylie, as Eduardo entered the room.

"Hey. Hi, Beth." Eduardo moved up behind Kylie and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I love you," he said, and kissed her on the cheek.

"What's with you?" asked Kylie.

"Nothing."

"Have you done somethi-?"

"No."

"Are you ok? You seem weird."

"Thanks." Eduardo let go of her, and went to fill a glass of water at the sink. "Maybe it's just what married life does to you."

"_What_?" Beth reacted.

Eduardo looked at her. "We, um, got married," he said blankly.

"You got _what_?"

"Look it up," muttered Kylie.

"When?" asked Beth.

"Yesterday," Eduardo told her.

"Yester… – oh, you should have said! I wouldn't have asked to stay the night if I'd known."

"Why not?" Kylie asked innocently.

"Well because… because you might have wanted to… why didn't you tell me?"

"Yeah, why didn't you tell her?" added Eduardo.

"Well, you just broke up with Carl," said Kylie. "I didn't want to sound smug."

"Oh, honey, that's ok." Beth took two steps towards Kylie and embraced her warmly. "Congratulations! This is wonderful news!"

"Nothing's changed," said Kylie. "You don't have to treat it like a big deal."

"But it _is_ a big deal." Beth let Kylie go, and went to hug Eduardo. "Aww, I can't believe you're all grown up and you got married!"

"He's been all grown up and cohabiting with me for years," Kylie pointed out. "Our first child is five. Speaking of which, I'd better go get them out of bed."

When Kylie had left the room, Beth said to Eduardo, "I can stay with the girls today if you want me to. Chita can practise her reading on me, and I'll take them to Pizza Hut or somewhere for lunch."

Eduardo winced. "Don't talk to me about Pizza Hut."

"Why not?"

"Never mind, forget it. The girls love spending time with you, Beth, but you don't have to do us any favours if you want to go home and talk to Carl."

"Oh." Beth looked at her feet. "That."

"I can't imagine you two not being together. I can barely remember life before you."

"Yeah," Beth smiled indulgently. "I remember the first time Carl took me home to meet you guys. You were so little and cute! You didn't like me very much, I think."

"I was like Rose – I had to warm up to people," said Eduardo. "I love you now. I really do. We _all_ love you, Carl included. You know that, don't you?"

"How was he when you saw him yesterday?"

"Terrible. He really wants you back, Beth, and he said he's prepared to change whatever it is that's making you unhappy."

"Well… maybe I _should_ talk to him."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but I do."

"Well then."

"Eddie." Kylie reappeared in the doorway. "Can you go and deal with Rose? She's being a pain in the ass and refusing to speak English."

Eduardo offered an encouraging smile and gave Beth's arm a gentle squeeze, and then went to see to Rose.

"He's good like that, isn't he?" said Beth, sitting down heavily at the small round table in the middle of the room. "Carl never used to deal with Kevin, except to yell at him. Once he woke me up to tell me that a button on Kev's romper suit was undone."

Kylie blinked in disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

"No. He does things like that." She sighed deeply. "It doesn't make sense. I know they're pretty much different generations, but they were still raised in the same home by the same parents. Why is Eduardo so much more… more…?"

"Maybe it's me," Kylie said tentatively. "He knows I'm not prepared to be the kind of wife his mother was. If I was someone else… who knows?"

"And he hasn't changed now that you've married him," Beth ploughed on. "He still treats you like he always did. He still does his share of housework and looking after the kids. He hasn't suddenly started bossing you around and expecting you to cook his dinner and… you know… whenever _he_ feels like it, and then not even bothering to… to… It's not fair. Why can't I be more like you?"

"Like _me_? Beth, come on," said Kylie. "There's nothing wrong with _you_."

"There is. I'm a doormat."

"Well, not anymore. You're not putting up with it. You've left."

"So what do I do now? I can't leave him for good. I don't even have a job, and I'll never get one now because I haven't worked for nineteen years!"

"Beth, come on, don't talk like that." Kylie sat down next to her, again touching her arm. "We'll find you a job."

Beth looked at her. "We?"

"I'll help you."

Beth looked dubious, but didn't get a chance to say any more, because Eduardo walked in at that moment with Conchita and Rose.

"Sorry," Kylie said to her daughters. "I haven't quite finished breakfast yet."

Beth suddenly got to her feet, proclaiming, "I'll do it."

"No," said Kylie, "_I'll_ do it. You can help," she added, looking at Eduardo, just to make it absolutely clear that she was not to be solely responsible for all culinary activity from now on. "Why don't you girls play with Beth so she doesn't get bored while she waits?"

"I heard you telling her you'd help her leave Carlos, you know," Eduardo said, _very_ quietly, because Beth had only gone as far as the living room.

"And?" retorted Kylie.

"I thought you were going to butt out."

"She's my friend." Kylie got to her feet. "If her husband is making her unhappy and she wants to leave him, of course I'm going to help her."

"It _isn't_ what she wants. She told _me_ she still loves him."

"Well then obviously she won't leave, will she? Why are you still getting at me? You said yourself she'll figure it out."

"It can't bode well for us," Eduardo said slowly, "that you're trying to break up my brother's marriage just hours after marrying _me_."

"Bullshit," snapped Kylie. "Our marriage isn't going to be anything like theirs, as long as you keep all those promises you made me."

"So anything that goes wrong will be _my_ fault, will it?"

"I didn't say that."

"You did."

"I didn't! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't like you trying to break up my family."

"I am not trying to break up your goddamn family!" Kylie squeaked incredulously. "And anyway, whose benefit is all of this for? I _know_ you're not thinking about Carl's feelings – no one hates him more than you do."

"I am thinking," said Eduardo, "about Beth."

"No you're not. You're thinking about yourself."

"I'm not. Their marriage is no more of my goddamn business than it is yours."

"Ok, so butt out."

"I'm not butting _in_."

"You are," said Kylie. "You've been telling her to go back to him. You don't even seem to care that he treats her like a slave and he's making her miserable."

"Of course I care. And I think they can work it out."

"Well _I_ think you're wrong. There is absolutely no way she should go back to him."

"Why? Because _you_ wouldn't go back to him? Beth isn't you, Kylie, and she's perfectly capable of making her own decisions."

"She asked for my advice, you know," bristled Kylie. "I'm only trying to help, and you have absolutely no right to tell me what I can and can't say."

"I'm not - "

"Oh yes you are. Is this how it's going to be from now on? I'm supposed to be seen and not heard? When I asked you to marry me, you _promised_ me you weren't going to change."

"Kylie," said Eduardo. "You're overreacting. I have to be allowed to disagree with you without being accused of… of… just what _are_ you accusing me of?"

Kylie felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes, and turned her back on him. "Oh, I don't know," she admitted. "It just feels like you're treating me differently now that I'm your _wife_."

"Wife isn't a dirty word, Kylie. And I'm not treating you differently."

"You are. You refused to make love to me last night" – oops, she really hadn't meant to throw that in his face – "and now you're telling me off for giving advice that _you_ don't agree with. Because that isn't your idea of what a wife should be, is it!"

Eduardo scowled. "Kylie. I am not my father, and I'm not my brother."

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

"I'm nothing like either of them. And I'd never try to make you be anything you didn't want to be. I thought you knew that."

To Kylie's astonishment, he was the first to storm out. He barged past her into the living room, and she heard him talking in a low voice to Beth and the girls moments before the front door clicked shut.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Kylie, charging into the room. "Where did he go?"

"He said he'd be back soon," volunteered Conchita.

"What's going on?" asked Beth. "I haven't been causing problems, have I?"

"No, Beth, it's nothing to do with you." Ok, perhaps it was lie, but only a small one. Beth may have been catalytic in that little spat, but it was hardly her fault. "It's just… I don't even know."

x x x

Eduardo went straight to the firehouse. Only now did he realise that he had yet to see his friends since the trip to Mexico, so distracted had he been by the previous day's events.

"Hey, Eddie," Garrett was the first to greet him. "Where's your wife?"

"At home."

"Oh, too bad. I wanted to piss her off by calling her 'Eddie's wife' all day."

"We got married," snapped Eduardo. "How is that a joke?"

"Um…"

"Are you ok?" Roland jumped in.

"Yeah, fine," Eduardo muttered, not very convincingly.

"Well, anyway," said Roland, not wishing to pry, "have you noticed anything unusual at home? We've had reports of a few disturbances in your area. Nothing major," he added reassuringly.

"Really?" asked Eduardo. "I haven't noticed anything. Since when?"

"Yesterday evening."

"I was a bit distracted yesterday. I got married, and Beth walked out on Carlos."

"How ironic," remarked Garrett.

"They'll work it out."

"Yeah, well, I gotta say I don't envy her being married to your brother."

"Look," said Eduardo, "he treats her all right. Obviously they've had some problems lately, but they can work it out." He paused. "What kind of disturbances?"

"A couple of sightings of a ghostly apparition," said Roland. "One guy described a young woman in Victorian dress. He lives in your apartment block, actually."

"There's a ghost in my apartment block?"

"Perhaps."

"Maybe I should go home."

"Why? Because your wife and daughters are there?" asked Garrett. "Don't be so sexist, Eddie – they can handle themselves."

Eduardo scowled. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

"I don't see the point in taking things seriously. My marriage is built on a solid foundation of laughter, and I'm as happy as Larry. _You_, on the other hand, don't seem very chipper for a man who just married the love of his life. You and Ky had a bust-up already, didn't you?"

"It's nothing major."

"What did you do?"

"Why do you assume it's something _I_ did?"

"Well whatever it's about," Roland interrupted hastily, "you can make it up to her when we go to your apartment block. You shouldn't have come in early, Eduardo – we're going to check it out in a few minutes. Actually I was trying to call you."

"You were? Did Kylie pick up?"

"Yeah. She was kind of snappy, though – said she had stuff to do."

"Ugh." Eduardo slapped his forehead. "_Nombre de Dios_, what crap is she putting into Beth's head _now_?"

x x x

Kylie was no longer with Beth. She was with Leonard. She didn't want to discuss her marriage with Beth at a time like this; she couldn't talk to anyone at the firehouse because she knew Eduardo would be hanging around there, and her father was working (which Leonard no longer did). She wasn't at all sure that she would have gone to Steve, given the choice, but that seemed fairly academic now.

"I've known him for almost exactly nine years," said Kylie. "I wasn't at all sure about him to start off with, but I wouldn't have married him if I wasn't sure about him _now_. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"Maybe," said Leonard, who obviously had no idea what to say.

Circling Kylie's mind was her first meeting with Leonard, also some nine years ago. She had felt something akin to attraction then, though now she thought it was probably nothing more than affection. He was a sweet guy, vulnerable yet brave enough to quit his job and see where the wind took him, and full of regret that he hadn't found that special someone to share his life with. And he was old enough to be her father. What was it, Kylie wondered, with her and much older men?

And Eduardo – what had _he_ been? Surly, immature, unable to admit even to himself that he was seething with jealousy when Kylie had lured that ghost bride out of the mirror by threatening to kiss Leonard… _"My financial needs are sooooo neglected." _She cringed inwardly. It was astonishing, some of the things you could come out with when you were eighteen and had a crush.

"I don't really know what to tell you, Kylie," Leonard went on. "I've never been married – I don't know what it's supposed to be like."

"It isn't 'supposed to be like' anything. People say, don't they, 'you have to work at these things', but I never understood why. I mean, if you're married, and you actually have to put yourself out to make it work… well, that doesn't sound like a very good marriage to me." She looked directly at him. "Does that sound naïve?"

"No," said Leonard. "That sounds perfectly reasonable."

"I'm sorry," Kylie said suddenly. "There's nothing more annoying than women who sit and rabbit about their stupid boyfriend-slash-husband problems."

"They aren't stupid problems, Kylie."

"Yes they are. I _am_ being paranoid. I just had this crazy idea that he'd turn into his brother, and I started seeing things that weren't there." She paused, and wondered what that look he was giving her meant. She dropped her eyes. "I should go."

x x x

Eduardo became fairly anxious when all of the PKE trails in his neighbourhood led directly to his apartment block. He grew considerably more anxious when he found himself standing outside his own front door.

"Somebody should probably question the neighbours," said Roland. "Eduardo, would you like to…?"

"I'd rather not," said Eduardo. He got on all right with his neighbours, but at that particular moment he was anxious to check on his family. "You do it. They're all nice people. Number thirty-two is a little crazy and number twenty-nine's dog will probably try to have sex with you, but they're ok."

"Right," said Roland. "Thanks for the warning."

Garrett followed Eduardo into the apartment, and the first person they saw was Beth. She was on the sofa with the girls, Conchita reading aloud from a simple chapter book while Rose examined the pictures with obvious disinterest.

"Beth, what are you still doing here?" asked Eduardo.

"I'm babysitting."

"Why? Where's Kylie?"

"She went out. She said she was going to see someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know, she didn't say."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." Beth eyed Garrett and Eduardo, both armed to the back teeth and in full uniform. "What's going on?"

"There's a ghost here," Garrett told her matter-of-factly.

Conchita looked around dubiously. "There is?"

"It's probably invisible, sweetie," Garrett said patronisingly.

"Beth," said Eduardo, "you should go. Would you be able to take the girls with you?"

"Of course," said Beth, standing up immediately. "I'll take them to my place."

"You wanted to go home and talk to Carl anyway… didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I really appreciate this, Beth," said Eduardo. "Kylie and/or I will be over to collect them… later. It's very good of you," he added. "I really, _really_ appreciate it."

"It's fine," Beth replied breezily. "I don't mind."

She, Conchita and Rose had cleared out within five minutes, by which time Garrett was turning the kitchen upside-down trying to locate this Victorian-looking ghost.

"Are these things malfunctioning or something?" he asked irritably, frowning at his PKE meter. "According to these readings there's got to be a ghost in this place, but no one seems to have noticed anything."

Eduardo looked up from the note he was writing for Kylie, explaining why she would come back to find the apartment evacuated. "It's probably invisible," he said dryly.

"Yeah, but even so," said Garrett. "I mean, you'd think Pagan would be on edge or something."

"Where _is _Pagan?" Eduardo wondered, and immediately set off to look for him. He quickly located the cat crouching behind the toilet with his hackles raised. Right, so he _was_ on edge. Someone in the apartment _had_ noticed this elusive ghost.

"Where's the ghost, Pagan?" asked Eduardo. It was astonishing how quickly he had got into the habit of talking to Kylie's cat; he'd begun doing it almost on a daily basis within a month of the start of their romantic relationship. It was ridiculous, he knew, because obviously Pagan couldn't answer him, and on this particular occasion a PKE meter would surely be a much more reliable source of information. Eduardo unhooked the device from his belt and followed the trail.

Ok, so there was a ghost in his bedroom. That was different. Eduardo ventured cautiously in, proton gun at the ready, and looked around. He was in no way sensing anything out of the ordinary in there. He dropped his guard slightly, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do next. He couldn't shoot something he couldn't see.

But then he _did_ see her. Just briefly, and only from the shoulders upwards, so he could not confirm her supposed Victorian style of dress. She was in the mirror, or in front of it – it was hard to tell which. Eduardo only saw her for a moment, but he noticed that she was pretty. She had beautiful hair and an unreadable smile on her face. Then she vanished, leaving behind only a faint mist around the mirror.

Eduardo reacted by readying his gun as soon as he saw the face in the mirror, but in the moment it had gone he suddenly found himself under some sort of hypnosis. The mirror was showing him something… the mist was clearing slightly to reveal Kylie and, eventually, Leonard.

"No, don't go." Eduardo couldn't see them too clearly, but he saw that Leonard had grabbed Kylie's arm. "Do you really want to go back to him?"

A moment later he was kissing her, and then suddenly the two figures in the image seemed to merge into one. Afterwards, even if he had wanted to, Eduardo never could have described what he was seeing. It was somehow euphemistic and filthy at the same time: something like a tasteful montage of fleeting body parts, writhing like liquid to a soundtrack of gasps and sighs and moans he knew only too well. And then, just to make absolutely sure he got the picture, he saw rapture on her face as she called out, "Leonard!"

The sounds and images began to subside, but anger and despair were rising in Eduardo like a tidal wave that if left to itself would –

"Eddie, what are you doing in here?"

Eduardo snapped out of it. "Huh?"

"What's the matter with you?" Garrett went on irritably. "What's going on here? My PKE meter was adamant that I should come in here, but whatever it was seems to have gone now, so where the hell is it? Didn't you see anything?"

"Um." Eduardo sat down heavily on the end of the bed. "The mirror was… doing something."

"Really?" Garrett wheeled his way over to the mirror. "What?"

"It was just… being weird."

"In what way weird?"

"Does it matter?" snapped Eduardo.

"Er, well, maybe," Garrett said sarcastically. "But look, I'm only getting residual traces. There doesn't seem to be any kind of trail leading from this room. Where did the damn thing _go_? It must have just disappeared."

"I saw it," said Eduardo.

"You _what_?" Garrett returned irritably. "Why didn't you blast it?"

"I didn't have time. She was gone as soon as I set eyes on her."

"Well… what did it look like?"

"I don't know. Young. Pretty. Translucent. She had nice hair."

"Right. Good. That should be plenty to go on," muttered Garrett.

Roland arrived then, and immediately noticed Eduardo. "Are you all right?" he asked. "You look like you're about to throw up or something."

"I feel a little bit sick," Eduardo confessed.

"Maybe you'd better lie down. Take your proton pack off – that can't be doing you any good. Here, I'll open the window," which he duly did. "Do you need, like, a bucket or anything?"

"No," said Eduardo. "No, no, I'm fine."

"You just said you felt sick."

"I do."

"Well you _look_ terrible. You're obviously not well – you'll have to stay home. Oh, wait, there's a ghost here…"

"There isn't," said Garrett. "It seems to have gone."

"Gone?" Roland looked disappointed. "How can it just be gone?"

"I don't know, but I can't pick up its trail," Garrett told him. "And we can't leave Eddie here – he's the only one who saw anything."

"I told you what I saw," Eduardo said irritably. "The ghost of some girl – I only saw her face: young, pretty, nice hair. She was smiling. Not in a good way or a bad way."

"What about the mirror?" pressed Garrett. "You said something about the mirror."

"I… I saw…"

"What?" asked Roland.

"Nothing. Mist. Shapes. Movement. Nothing I can describe."

"None of your neighbours described anything like _that_. In fact I didn't get anything we didn't already know from the calls. You'd better stay here, Eduardo. Garrett and I will try again to pick up this ghost's trail, and then we'll see what happens."

"Call the firehouse, Eddie," advised Garrett, "with your description. Egon can get onto that in the meantime."

"And feel better," Roland added kindly.

x x x

It was only Sally. Constantine, still clutching the little doll, breathed out.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I feel fine now."

"What have you done with the baby?"

"She's with your mother. I really could have done with your help up there, Constantine."

"Hey," snapped Constantine. "I mopped up all that water and blood and whatever else was pouring out of you. I sent for the midwife, and when she didn't arrive I mopped your brow between screaming fits."

"That was really helpful, Constantine, thanks," Sally returned acidly. "And you'd scream too if you were - "

"I daresay. I actually felt sorry for you, going through all that, when I thought you were having my brother's baby."

Sally raised her eyebrows. "_That's_ what you were accusing me of?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"No, sorry, I was a bit busy giving birth to your niece!"

"She isn't my niece!" yelled Constantine. "A month premature? That enormous thing? I hardly think so!"

"And how many newborn babies have you seen?" demanded Sally. "So she's a little bigger than you were expecting! So what? You're no expert. It doesn't mean - "

"Sally."

"I'm not finished yet! Ever since Wolf-Christian and I got engaged, you've been nothing but hostile towards me!"

"Sally!"

"And I know you thought I was… you know… before we married, which is completely untrue, but I see I shall never change your mind. But to accuse me of marrying your brother when I was already carrying - "

"Sally, you're _bleeding_!"

Constantine's eyes were on Sally's bare feet, which stood in a rapidly growing pool of blood that dripped heavily from between her legs and ran down her ankles.

"You have to get back to bed," said Constantine, approaching slightly closer. "The midwife will probably arrive soon if she hasn't al- "

She had to cut herself off, and catch Sally as she fell into a sudden faint.

x x x

Fidelity. Monogamy. Faithfulness. Not the same thing as faith. Funny, that. Have. Hold. Love. Cherish. Honour. Obey. Honour? It seemed the most ambiguous. Was fidelity actually specified in the wedding vows? The vows they hadn't bothered taking. Because they didn't mean anything. Wasn't that what she had said?

Infidelity. Adultery. Cheating. Why cheat? The adulterer having a straightforwardly bad nature. No way. Years and years of abuse, oppression and general unhappiness. No. Definitely not. He certainly hoped not, anyway. Getting carried away by the throes of passion ignited by the person with whom one cheats. Um… Weakness. Momentary weakness caused by emotional insecurity, caused by spouse storming out, caused by argument, caused by events strictly speaking nothing to do with previously monogamous relationship. Perhaps.

Leonard. Leonard Leonard Leonard. Why Leonard? Why not Leonard? Because she wouldn't cheat with just anyone. She wouldn't cheat. Why take the word of a mirror seriously? The mirror wasn't responsible, of course. It was the ghost. Probably. It was certainly _a_ ghost, or something of that nature. Why would it show him that? If it wasn't true, why pick Leonard? Why not show her with, um…? Ok, maybe _that_ was why Leonard.

Had Kylie slept with Leonard before, a little less than nine years ago? She had never given any indication of having done so, nor of not having done so. Those sounds, those looks, were playing over and over in his mind. No one could have got a reaction like that from her their first time together. Or could they? Just because _he_ couldn't… She was older now, of course. She knew her own body better, and she almost certainly had more confidence. Perhaps she was more forthcoming about what she wanted. Or perhaps Leonard was just plain better than –

Eduardo shook his head clear. That train of thought was becoming more and more unpleasant, and it wasn't getting him anywhere. The thoughts weren't linear, of course. No one thinks in sentences. Words, images and memories tumbled around his head in every direction as he walked the streets of Manhattan.

He thought back to the first time he and Kylie had slept together. He didn't think of it with the same fondness that she did. While the memory always brought a smile to her face, it was something he generally tried to forget. What he remembered most was feeling more nervous than he had ever thought he could. He had found it near impossible to keep his hands steady at the same time as trying to work out whether or not she liked what he was doing. He didn't know how or where to touch her, and she wouldn't tell him. He just muddled through, and afterwards he was sure he had disappointed her. She wrapped her arms around him and assured him it had been wonderful, but he knew it hadn't been _that_ wonderful.

The second time, on the same night, was much better. He was reassured when she reached for him through the darkness and started kissing him. She couldn't have been as disappointed as he suspected if she wanted to do it again. Nothing is ever as nerve-racking the second time anyway, and now he knew her expectations; the last time, he had imagined her looking forward to screaming orgasms that would shake the bed. But not this time. He was no longer fearful of disappointing her, and he evidently did just the opposite. He still remembered the joy and relief that washed over him when he heard her gasp, and felt her entire body tense for a few blissful seconds.

The morning after wasn't perfect, as he had naively hoped it would be. He awoke suddenly to the sound of an alarm clock, and wondered what the hell had happened when the noise stopped without him touching the thing. The first thing that occurred to him was, most unromantically, a flat battery. Then he felt movement beside him.

They turned over at the same time. She smiled. He smiled, relieved that she still seemed to want him there (the thought that she might suddenly change her mind just would not seem to leave him). They fell into each other's arms – again – and he said something corny. He couldn't remember now exactly what that was. Something like, "I _must_ be dreaming." God, she probably hated that. His bladder was nearly ready to burst, and hers probably was too, but it wasn't enough to drive them out of bed just yet. They must have been kissing for about ten minutes before Kylie suddenly exclaimed, "Shit, the wedding!"

"What?" said Eduardo. He had honestly forgotten.

"The wedding," echoed Kylie, clambering out of bed and climbing into a convenient towelling robe that was hanging nearby. "You have to go home and get changed."

"What…?" and then he remembered. Astonishingly it took him until that point to remember that Egon and Janine were shortly to star in what he and Garrett were privately calling the Wedding of the Century. "Oh crap," he said, _really_ not wanting to go to a wedding when he could be making love to this wonderful woman.

"You need to go to the bathroom, don't you?" She was feeding Pagan already. "Go on, hurry up – I have to take a shower."

Both of these things quickly happened, and when Kylie emerged from the bathroom some twenty minutes later Eduardo had just about managed to pull on his jeans.

"_Are you still here_?" shrieked Kylie.

"Well I was hardly going to leave without saying goodbye."

"Oh, right." She picked his t-shirt up off the floor and threw it at him. "Goodbye."

He caught the t-shirt, and then cocked an eyebrow. "Is that the best you can do?"

"Eduardo, go! You'll be late!"

"Who cares?"

"_Everyone_! God, why did it have to be _last_ night? Couldn't you have come over and confessed your love to me some other evening?"

Eduardo was understandably a bit fazed by that. He must have looked hurt, because Kylie's expression softened and she walked over to him.

"I'm sorry," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It's just… you know…"

She was forced to stop speaking when Eduardo started kissing her. She reciprocated for several seconds, but then prised her head back and said again, "Eduardo!" Undeterred, he moved down to her neck (she liked that, he remembered).

"Eduardo!" She slapped his arm, and this time he stopped. "You have to go!"

"Let's not."

Her eyes widened. "_What_?"

"Let's not go to the wedding. We can say we both spent the whole night throwing up or something."

"Eduardo!" She was clearly suppressing a laugh. "Are you saying that you'd not only be prepared to miss the wedding yourself, but you'd happily keep away one of the bridesmaids as well?"

"Yes," he said sincerely.

"You can't. _We_ can't."

"Oh, come on. You don't really want to be a bridesmaid, do you? You don't strike me as the type."

Kylie pushed him away gently. "I have to. And you have to be there too."

There was absolutely no point in resisting, Eduardo knew. He really _was_ willing to miss the wedding – even the absence of one of the bridesmaids shouldn't matter _that_ much, he reasoned – but she wasn't going to budge. It would surely be better for both of them in the long run anyway, if they did their best not to incur anybody's wrath.

"Eduardo! It's you again! I don't believe it!"

Eduardo snapped out of his trip down memory lane. Incredible. Absolutely amazing. How had he managed not to see Bess for over eight years and then cross paths with her two days in a row? One his wedding day, and the next the day he was told by a supernatural being that his one and only was cheating on him.

He shook his head incredulously. "This can't be a coincidence."

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_Extreme Ghostbusters:_ **If That's What You Want**

Part 4

Bess frowned. "What?"

"Um, sorry, nothing."

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He wasn't, but that was hardly any of her goddamn business. "Do you, um…?"

"What? Another coffee?"

"Please. I'd like to."

"Oh." She almost looked suspicious. "Ok."

Of course, Eduardo now remembered, getting Kylie to communicate her most intimate desires had been Junior Scrabble compared to satisfying Bess in that department. She had never even given him so much as a Stop or a Keep Going. He thought he had more or less managed to figure it out eventually, but she really had to be in the mood for it to be any good for either of them. All the rest of the time she faked it, as far as Eduardo could tell, which couldn't have been much fun for her – and it made _him_ feel pretty bad too, because he wanted to be a good lover.

"Are you…?"

Eduardo raised his eyebrows. "Am I what?"

"Are you sure Kylie would be ok with this?"

He lowered his eyes slightly. "We're only having coffee. She seemed ok with it when I told her about us having coffee yesterday."

"Oh." Bess looked surprised. "She doesn't mind you… and, and me…?"

"She doesn't own me."

"No," Bess agreed. She paused. "May I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"When you dumped me, and you said it was because you were in love with someone else, I assumed it was Wanda."

"_Wanda_?" Eduardo pulled a face. "I was never in love with Wanda. I couldn't love someone like her."

"Why?" Bess asked defensively. "What's wrong with her?"

"Um… well, be honest, Bess – you were one of her best friends and she didn't even treat _you_ that well."

"She _did_ treat me well actually," retorted Bess. "When she insisted on turning people into trees and stuff, it was only because they said or did something to upset _me_."

"Yeah? I always thought it was because she hated everyone, she enjoyed messing around with magic and she'd jump on any excuse to turn people into things."

"Eduardo, please don't sit there badmouthing Wanda. She and I are still very good friends. In fact we're still living together, if you must know."

"You're still living with Wanda?" Eduardo asked. "And what about…? Ugh, you know, the other one."

" 'The other one'," Bess echoed dryly. "Céline _did_ start saying she felt like she was just making up the numbers. She got sick of being Wanda's mini-me and went off to… to… I can't even remember. God, I'm a bad friend."

"Hey, don't worry about it. She's obviously just a very forgettable person."

There followed an awkward silence.

"How's married life?" asked Bess at last.

"Oh, well." Eduardo looked down again. "Not what I expected."

"Nothing ever is."

"Yeah."

"Only… well, are you spending much time with her? God, sorry, it's none of my business," she added hastily.

Eduardo shrugged. "Don't sweat it. It's just that I got married yesterday and both times you've seen me since, I've been on my own. I get it."

"Wanda thinks…" – Bess bit her lip. Why on earth had she said that out loud? Or started to say it, anyway.

"Wanda thinks what?" asked Eduardo.

"Nothing, forget it, never mind." There was a long pause, then, "You remember that time I had to lock up at the coffee shop, and you and I spent the whole night there?"

"Of course I remember."

She smiled suggestively. "That was fun."

_Was it?_ Eduardo wondered. "Fun" was not exactly how he remembered it. Bess had been charged with the task of locking up the coffee shop where she waitressed her way through college, and quite simply suggested to Eduardo that they spend a night in the place and see where the mood took them. Eduardo had pointed out that there was little to do in a deserted café, whereupon Bess had promised him a night of unbridled passion (she wanted to be a good lover as much as he did). By that time she had lost some of her inhibitions, and they had more or less got the hang of each other's bodies. However, in spite of her numerous insistences that Eduardo continue making love to her in the storeroom, she didn't respond at all and later confessed that she was worried in case her bosses had suddenly decided to install CCTV without telling anybody.

"We could have left," Eduardo had said, on hearing this. "You should have told me."

"There was no point in stopping once we'd started," Bess had replied. "It only occurred to me after we had half our clothes off, and if there _is _CCTV I'd be fired even if we stopped there."

"But you weren't enjoying it. What was the point?"

"_You_ enjoyed it. That was enough."

Eduardo had not confessed that he didn't enjoy it very much at all. Ok, so he had liked it a bit – he always did – but their relationship was still at the stage where he had thought it might work (as far as he could tell, Kylie was not interested and never would be). It was before he learned that Bess was so timid and so eager to avoid any kind of confrontation that she would rather put up with any problems she experienced in their relationship than try to fix them, or let him try to fix them.

"Ok, so maybe it wasn't perfect." Bess, it seemed, was reading his silence perfectly. "But you enjoyed yourself. We _did_ have some good times together, didn't we?"

"Yeah," Eduardo said truthfully. "We did."

"I'm sorry," Bess went on soberly. "I wasn't a very good girlfriend. I can see that now. I was young. I'd never really had a boyfriend before. I thought the best way to keep you happy was not to complain and just do whatever you wanted."

"Complaints are one thing," said Eduardo, "but to be honest I could have done with a little constructive criticism."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising. It probably would have gotten better with time, if Kylie hadn't been an issue, but it could never work out between you and me because she was always on my mind. I felt like I was cheating on you."

"Cheating on me," Bess muttered bitterly. "You were pretending you were with Kylie, weren't you, all those times I made love to you. It always felt like you weren't really there. When you told me you loved someone else, I knew you must have been imagining that someone else all those times. I thought it was Wanda, most of the time, but I sometimes used to wonder. It almost drove me crazy, wondering whose face you saw when you were screwing me."

Eduardo blinked. "I… I'm sorry."

"So was she worth the wait?" Bess pressed. "Was she worth dumping me for? Is she better than me?"

"Bess…"

"No, please tell me, because I was awake practically all night wondering: what is it that makes you want _her_ so much more than _me_? Does she come faster, scream louder, is she tighter or warmer or wetter or deeper, does she squeeze harder, does she arch her back, I mean _what_? What is _so_ special about _her_?" Then she stopped abruptly, and collapsed onto the table (in much the same manner as Kevin had done at Pizza Hut the day before). "Shit, sorry, that was a little bit insane, wasn't it?"

Eduardo was stunned, largely because some very similar thoughts had invaded his own mind when he'd been told that Kylie was cheating with Leonard (was he slower, steadier, gentler, rougher, fuller, bigger, harder…?). Those thoughts had come to him with all the same fear and urgency that had been in Bess's voice. But it couldn't matter to her as much as it did to him, surely.

"I just love her," he said at last. "That's all."

Bess looked up, her eyes shining and wide. "I loved _you_, you know."

"I know. You used to tell me. I'm sorry."

She let out a long sigh, and then asked quietly, "_Why_ were you so keen to have coffee with me?"

Eduardo had no answer. Honestly, he didn't know. It must have had something to do with the possibility of Kylie being unfaithful. Did he need a friend? Someone to be supportive, or maybe just take his mind off it? Maybe it was something to do with the fact that she was the only other woman he had ever come close to loving. If he didn't have Kylie, it would probably be Bess. He had admitted that to Kylie himself. But if anything did come of it, it would have to be because _she_ left _him_. He felt she could betray him a million times and he still couldn't leave. He knew, of course, that if he ever did the impossible and cheated on her, he would get no other chance. That was the difference between him and her. Well, one of them. He sometimes wondered whether she loved him as much as he loved her. Hardly ever, but sometimes.

"I thought it would be nice," he said, "if we could be friends again."

"You weren't thinking of…?"

"What?"

"Well. Cheating."

Eduardo shook his head. "Never."

x x x

"So what's going on?" asked Kylie, breezing in without so much as a Good Morning. "Eddie left me a note saying there's a ghost in our apartment."

"There _was_ a ghost in your apartment," said Garrett, spinning his chair to face her. He and Roland were peering over Egon's shoulder as he tapped expertly away at his database. "It left, and we can't trace it."

"Oh. Is there any danger it might come back?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. We don't know. We can't even figure out what it is."

"Apparently it's a young woman sporting Victorian garments," Egon cut in, not looking up from the computer. "There have been countless sightings of _those_ over the years and, to make things even more difficult for us, there has apparently only ever been scant documentation on all of them."

"Eddie said she was messing with the mirror," said Garrett, "so that's what we're checking out now."

"It isn't helping much," added Egon.

"It seemed to make him feel ill," Roland cut in. "How is he now, Kylie?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him."

"But you went home."

"He wasn't there."

"Oh. So… where is he?"

"I don't know," Kylie confessed, beginning to worry slightly.

"Maybe he went to a doctor," Roland suggested brightly.

"Um." It hardly seemed likely. Eduardo had to be _really_ ill before he'd go to a doctor. "Look, anyway, what about this ghost? Does it really matter _what_ it is?"

"We may have to hope not," Egon deadpanned. "Before you arrived, Kylie, I had a flick through some of my books, but I wasn't very thorough because I've read them all before and I really don't think there's anything in them that can be of any real use to us. But you can look again if you want to."

"All right," said Kylie.

"Meanwhile," Egon continued, "I've found the names of a few researchers whose work _might_ be of help to us, if only we can locate it. Roland, can you please start calling round the archives?"

"Of course." Roland stood up immediately and headed for the nearest phone.

x x x

Eduardo walked Bess back to her office, maintaining a strained silence for all of the short distance. He had meant what he said about wanting to be her friend, because he really did like her. But apparently that wasn't going to work.

Bess was about to disappear forever through the door to her office, when one of the last people Eduardo expected to see there came out of it and blocked her path.

"Bess, hi," said Steve Griffin. "I'm glad you're back. Listen, I did my best, but I'm afraid I didn't quite manage to salvage the - " and then he noticed Eduardo. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I was just having coffee with Bess," Eduardo replied simply.

Steve frowned. "Why?"

"Why not?" Knowing Steve probably wouldn't like it, Eduardo anyway added, "She and I used to date. He's Kylie's father," he added, noticing Bess's utterly bemused expression.

"Oh," said Bess. "Wow, what an amazing coincidence. We got Steve out here because he's the only computer maintenance guy who'll come at five minutes' notice. We really need our system, you see."

"Yes, well, anyway, all of the pay run you were doing this morning is now lost, unfortunately," Steve said apologetically, and Eduardo switched off while Steve and Bess discussed the problems with the computer system and the resulting implications for Pizza Hut's payroll.

"Well, anyway." A minute later, Bess attracted his attention once more. "I'd better get back to work… input all of that information again. Bye," she added.

"Bye," Eduardo echoed curtly, and Bess walked out of his life for the second time.

Steve's frown deepened. "What's going on there?" he demanded.

"Nothing," said Eduardo.

"Why were you having coffee with her?"

"Lots of people socialise with their exes, Steve."

"True," Steve conceded. "So you, um, you married Kylie."

"I seem to have."

"I still don't get why no one told me."

"Well," said Eduardo, "that wasn't _my_ idea."

"To be honest I feel a little bit cheated. I always assumed I'd be there if she ever got married. I even had this crazy idea that I'd give her away."

"No one gave her away. Ky said to me, 'You can't give away what you don't own.'"

"Yeah," Steve sighed wistfully. "She never needed me for anything. She's been her own person since she was a little kid."

_Please,_ Eduardo thought desperately. _No more tears – I can't handle it._

"So," Steve went on. "How's it going?"

"How's what going?"

"Your marriage."

"Oh." What could he say? That he didn't know? That would have been the honest answer, and he _wouldn't_ know until he found Kylie and asked her outright if she had done anything untoward with Leonard that morning. "Well…"

"Oh no." Steve's eyes widened. "You're not having problems already, are you?"

"Steve, come on, you panic too much," Eduardo said soothingly, wondering if they were really going to carry out an entire conversation standing outside the office where the payroll for Pizza Hut was processed. "I'll admit we had a little spat this morning. But we have those all the time – it's no big deal."

"Jill and I had a lot of little spats in our time," Steve said morosely. "You know, Kylie's more like her mother than she'd ever admit. In all the good ways," he added hastily, catching Eduardo's expression. "Like, she knows her own mind. She… she likes everything her own way."

"Yeah, I know."

"She _is_ happy, isn't she?"

"So she says."

Steve nodded approvingly. "Good. She and I never really… I mean, if I could have my time again…"

Eduardo was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was feeling pretty emotional himself, and that was more than enough for him to handle. His brother, his sister-in-law and his ex-girlfriend had dumped their problems on him the day before, and that was plenty for the time being. He _really_ didn't want to get into a heart-to-heart with Kylie's father. His father-in-law now, Eduardo realised.

"I'm sorry," Eduardo said, "but I have to go. I want to make up that fight with Kylie."

"Right, right, of course," Steve nodded. "I'll see you… sometime."

Steve sloped off, and Eduardo headed for the subway. If Kylie had gone home and found his note, she would almost certainly have gone to the firehouse. In that case, she was probably wondering where he was. Or else she had not yet left this "friend" she went to see – Leonard, perhaps, if the mirror was to be believed. Besides Beth and their fellow Ghostbusters, what other friends did she have? _Jack_, he answered himself straightaway. Leonard and Jack. The thought, for some reason, made him uncomfortable. More uncomfortable. He wasn't feeling great to start off with.

x x x

It came as something as a relief to Eduardo when he found Kylie at the firehouse, and that relief made him feel slightly guilty. Did he really think she was capable of cheating on him? Well, he had made up his mind to ask her: _"Kylie, have you been sleeping with Leonard?"_ Yikes, that could end badly.

She was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of one of the large bookcases when he found her, surrounded by open books, their empty spaces on the shelves looking down on her. She looked up when she heard him come in, and then rose quickly to her feet.

"Hi, there you are," she said, crossing the room to stand directly in front of him. "Where did you go? Roland said you weren't feeling well. Are you ok? Look," she added, "I'm sorry for what I said this morning. I didn't mean it."

"Forget it," he said. "Yeah, Roland was right: I wasn't feeling too good, and I didn't want to be cooped up at home so I went for a walk."

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her, and put his hands on her arms. "Yeah, I am. Listen, I ran into Bess again."

"Oh," she responded.

"We did the coffee thing again, but I kinda got the feeling she's still hung up on me, or else she just still hates my guts from when I broke up with her eight-and-a-half years ago. But either way we agreed it's best if we don't see each other again."

"Right," said Kylie, looking slightly suspicious but obviously trying not to. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm being honest with you," Eduardo replied simply. "I mean, imagine if you found out about it some other way. You'd be like, 'Why didn't you tell me?' You might think I'd been cheating on you or something."

"True," Kylie smiled crookedly. "So you're not still…?"

"What?"

"Nothing, forget it, I shouldn't have asked."

"Am I still hung up on her? Is that it?"

"I know you're not."

"Oh yeah," said Eduardo; "and I met your dad too. He was doing something with the computers at Bess's office."

"No way! What an incredible coincidence."

"Yeah." He paused. "So… what about you? When we tracked this ghost to the apartment, you'd left. Can I ask where you went?"

"Sure," shrugged Kylie. "I went to see Leonard."

Eduardo's heart skipped a beat. "Why?"

"Why not? He's my friend. He and I had a chat – some of it about you, I do admit. Well, you and me. After that I went home to check on Beth and the girls and found your note, and then I came here because, well, I wanted to make up."

"I'm sorry," said Eduardo. He started playing with her hair, and saw that she looked puzzled by the goofy smile on his face. "Sorry I wasn't here."

"It's ok."

He was no longer feeling scared or angry or hurt or betrayed, or anything of the sort. He just felt guilty for letting that doubt linger in his mind, even for a moment. And then suddenly his mind went blank, because suddenly she was kissing him.

They were interrupted, neither knew how many seconds or minutes later, by a throat-clearing noise. Eduardo stepped away from Kylie, and turned to see Roland holding several pieces of paper.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Much, thank you," said Eduardo.

"Well, anyway," Roland went on, "I managed to get in touch with a young trainee priest who was able to locate these documents for me – it's the research of one of his predecessors from the mid-twentieth century – and he was good enough to e-mail it to me. I've been reading through it, and I think maybe you guys should take a look at this part," whereupon he proffered the hand holding the papers.

Kylie took the wad of paper, skimmed through it and cocked a dubious eyebrow as she surmised, "An apparition that likes to break up marriages, huh?"

"_What_?" said Eduardo, alarmed.

"Basically he began his research when a young man came to Confession and told him that a demon haunted his every thought and seemed to be turning him against his wife," Roland explained to Eduardo, as Kylie ran her eyes over the same information on the page. "The priest then went on to discover instances of men experiencing similar marital problems, and came up with those six-odd pages on the subject. Apparently two men saw the demon as a ghost bride, one didn't see her at all and one saw her as a young woman in the clothes of an upper class Victorian lady. Like your neighbours. There were only those four instances, including the young man who approached him. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

"May I see that?" Eduardo asked Kylie.

"Sure." She handed the document over.

"You didn't get to the part about _why_ she does it, did you?" Roland asked dubiously.

"No," said Kylie. "Come on then, enlighten us: why does she?"

"It's pure speculation, of course," said Roland. "The priest had a few theories. One was that the ghost simply didn't want anybody to be happily married, possibly due to some bad experience in her life. He also suggested that the ghost might be in love herself with the men she targeted. Sounds far-fetched to me, but anyway, he later thought that there might be a pattern in the marriages the ghost was targeting."

"Oh?" Kylie said impatiently, when he hesitated.

Eduardo, meanwhile, had been reading through some excerpts from a diary this nameless priest had included in his rather depressing project, documenting one man's experiences of this bunny boiler ghost:

_Nightly she haunts my dreams with promises of what life would be if Laura was not my wife, but I had instead married Isabel. The latter, it must be said, appears a far better wife and makes the effort to please my family that Laura will not…_

_Last night I saw Isabel giving birth to my child with more detail than I could ever have knowledge of. I had begun to doubt it, but now I know a demon must be responsible; I should be mortified if I thought my own imagination could invent such atrocities. The colours in the vision alone were too much to be imagined._

Eduardo bit his lip. This man who was twenty-four in 1942 obviously hadn't much experience of childbirth, whereas he himself had been present at two births. But those experiences weren't reflected in his own dream. He remembered now the detail of the machine that monitored Bess's contractions; he had never seen one of those before in his life. Kylie had absolutely refused to have any machinery within about ten feet of her when she was putting herself through the natural births she wanted.

"Well," said Roland, "the thing is, the priest suggests – just briefly – that the women whose marriages were targeted were having some kind of negative effect on the family she had been brought into. The husband was never implicated – only the wife. In three cases, the parents-in-law absolutely hated her. One woman was instrumental in the dissolution of the thirty-three year marriage of her husband's uncle, and - "

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" fumed Kylie.

"It's pure speculation," Roland said again, sounding noticeably timid this time.

Eduardo had come across another young husband's diary entry, this one from 1911:

_This afternoon I was shown a terrible vision of Caroline in the act of being unfaithful to me with that intolerable young stable hand. She denies it with such passionate rage that I know she must be lying. I can no longer bear to look upon her face. I have no choice but to flog the saucy young stable hand and reject my wife._

"Babe, chill out," Eduardo said soothingly, draping an arm around Kylie's shoulders. "So what if some dead lady thinks that about you? We know it's not true, don't we?"

"Yes," said Kylie, "we do. But this ghost apparently wants to split up our marriage."

"Well she can't," Eduardo said dismissively. "Remember what you're always telling people: marriages don't break from the outside."

"True," Kylie conceded.

"And anyway," said Eduardo, "she left when we were there this morning. I'll bet she doesn't come back."

"She might," said Roland.

"Sure," Eduardo shrugged, "she might. But I got a hunch."

Truthfully, he felt that every attempt had been made by this ghost to break up their marriage, and as it hadn't worked the only sensible thing for her to do would be to give up and move on. Eduardo saw exactly what her plans had been, or at least he thought he did: she had encouraged him to believe that Bess would have been the better wife with that somewhat unconvincing dream; the vision in the mirror was intended to make him leave Kylie on the grounds of adultery; or, if he had gone ahead and asked her if she'd been unfaithful, she would have been furious that he could even think such a thing and even if she hadn't left him immediately, their solid foundation of trust would have been well and truly cracked.

That last scenario had almost happened, but not quite, because Eduardo had faith in her. It was true: marriages really didn't break from the outside. If the marriages of Laura and Caroline had ended just because of the whim of some ghost, Eduardo felt that they couldn't have been that strong in the first place.

Or maybe he was reading too much into it.

"I think," Roland said slowly, "perhaps we should go back to your apartment and see whether the ghost has been back."

x x x

Before anyone even began looking for ghosts, Eduardo noticed that the light on the answering machine was flashing. He did the logical thing and pushed the _play_ button, and was rewarded with his mother's voice holding forth about something.

"Don't say she doesn't approve of us marrying," said Kylie. She had understood the indignant tone but not the words, as it was all in Spanish.

"I forgot to tell her," Eduardo confessed.

Kylie was speechless for a moment. "You idiot," she said at last.

Eduardo nodded. "I know. I'd better give her a call."

"If she asks you why you didn't tell her when we got engaged," said Kylie, "you can say it's because I knew she'd pressure me to have a big Catholic wedding and I just didn't want to hear it. Ok?"

"I may paraphrase," said Eduardo, beginning to dial.

Kylie, Roland and Garrett, meanwhile, began hunting around for this elusive ghost. There was still quite a lot of PK activity around the mirror in the bedroom, but whatever had been haunting it had evidently decided not to come back. At any rate, it wasn't there now. Kylie, Garrett and Roland were all hanging around the mirror when Eduardo turned up following the call to his mother.

"Did she say anything interesting?" asked Kylie.

"Not especially," shrugged Eduardo. "Why didn't I tell her, where did we get married, who was there, what did I wear, how long ago did I propose, what do I mean _she_ proposed… What's going on in here?"

"Nothing much," Kylie confessed. "There are residual traces all over the apartment, but that's about it. We think maybe she's been here since you came this morning, but she seems to have gone again now. These guys" – she indicated Roland and Garrett – "say you saw something in the mirror."

"We already asked him what it was, Ky," said Garrett. "He said, um… mist and shapes and movement, wasn't it, Eddie?"

"Can't you be any more specific?" asked Kylie.

Eduardo looked at his feet. He really didn't want to tell her what he'd seen. "Does it really matter?" he asked.

"It might," said Kylie. "Come on, tell me. When you read Roland's priest friend's pieces of paper you seemed to assume you were reading about the same entity that's been here, so I think it must have shown you _something_."

"It did," Eduardo confessed. "Look, you don't wanna know, ok?"

Kylie frowned slightly.

"I might tell you later," Eduardo began to cave in already. "But Roland and Garrett _definitely_ don't wanna know."

"Right," Kylie said slowly. "Fine. So… what next? The ghost isn't here anymore, we don't know where it went or where it might have gone – we don't even know for sure what it wants, so we can't make an educated guess."

"Did anyone try the bathroom?" Garrett asked lamely.

"I don't think it's in the bathroom," said Kylie. "But I need to go anyway, so I might as well check. Back in a minute."

She found a semi-naked woman in the bathroom. She was just leaning on the edge of the basin, bold as brass, in what was either an undersized towel or an oversized face flannel. Kylie was rendered momentarily speechless.

"Oh God, it's you," the woman said, her cheeks colouring significantly. "This, um, this isn't what it looks like."

"No," agreed Kylie, glancing at her PKE meter. "You are the metaphorical footprint of the ghost that's trying to split up my marriage. You're not real."

The woman frowned. "Of course I'm real."

"Are you?"

"Yes," the semi-naked woman insisted. "And I'm sleeping with your husband. I can even prove it to you. I can tell you things about him that only his lover would know."

"I thought," Kylie said patiently, stopping to chat only because she wasn't quite sure how to get rid of this thing, "this wasn't what it looked like."

"I was lying. I am having a torrid affair with your husband."

"You are not," Kylie was adamant. "Even if you _were_ a real person I'd know there was some reasonable explanation involving you getting locked out of your apartment naked or something. _I trust him_," she finished emphatically.

The apparition didn't like that. It didn't like it one bit. Its eyes burned red with anger, and then suddenly it dissolved into smoke and flame. Then, still smoking and flaming, it took on the form of a cat and lashed out at Kylie with fiery claws. She jumped back in alarm, and then had the bright idea of turning the detachable showerhead on it. The fire-cat was no more real than the towel-clad woman had been, but the rush of water seemed to get rid of it. Kylie breathed out heavily, did what she had come to do in the first place and then left the bathroom, only to find Garrett, Roland and Eduardo hanging around outside.

"What was all the chat about?" Garrett asked innocently.

"The ghost left me a little surprise," said Kylie. "I had a conversation with a naked woman who tried to convince me she was sleeping with Eduardo, and then when I talked her down she turned into a weird fiery cat thing and tried to kill me."

"So the ghost _was_ here?" asked Garrett.

"No," said Kylie. "It wasn't the ghost. It wasn't anything – just an illusion, so I couldn't blast it. It probably wasn't even me turning the shower on it that got rid of it."

"_Could_ it have killed you?" Roland asked uncertainly.

Kylie shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's so weird," remarked Eduardo. "According to that thing Roland showed us she never actually confronted anybody, she only ever tried to pin anything on the wife and she _definitely_ never tried to kill anyone. Maybe she's getting desperate."

"Desperate?" echoed Kylie, raising her eyebrows. "Why? Why is it so important to her to split us up? I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it, babe," Eduardo said soothingly, putting his arms around her. "She's hit us with everything she's got. She can't split us up."

"What if she _hasn't_ hit us with everything she's got?" demanded Kylie. "What if she _really_ tries to kill me, or you, or, or…?"

"Don't panic," advised Eduardo. "If she comes back and tries something else we'll be ready for her this time. Ok?"

Kylie took a deep breath, and then stepped away from him. She didn't like feeling insecure, and she didn't like leaning on him emotionally. It felt rather anti-feminist, getting whiny and panicky and being soothed by her apparently more levelheaded husband.

"Why us?" she asked evenly. "It doesn't make sense."

"I don't know what to tell you."

"Look," Garrett cut in, "it's just some crazy ghost. It doesn't have to make sense. Now let's get out there and try to track it down!"

x x x

When Wanda arrived home that evening she headed straight for the sofa without even bothering to turn the light on, and managed to sit on Bess. They both screamed like a couple of girls for a few moments, and then Wanda demanded, "Why are you lying on the couch in the dark?"

"I'm thinking," Bess replied morosely.

"About what?"

"Just stuff. My life. I don't know if I want to be a payroll administrator forever."

"So don't," offered Wanda.

"Yeah," was Bess's response.

"This isn't just about paying pizza delivery boys, is it?" Wanda said perceptively. "What's the matter with you?"

"I saw Eduardo again today."

"Again? Really? What a coincidence."

"Perhaps."

"Right, so…?"

"You were wrong. He's not interested in starting an affair with me."

"Well, you wouldn't have an affair with him anyway," said Wanda. "Would you?"

Bess simply shrugged.

"Don't tell me you're still hung up on him."

"He was good to me," Bess said defensively. "I know you can't see past all those cheap moves he pulled on you, but there's more to him than that."

"Come on, Bess," Wanda said, speaking more kindly this time. "He'll always be special to you because he was your first, but it was eight-and-a-half years ago. You need to move on."

"Yeah," muttered Bess. "Because he's married now. And he's faithful."

Wanda opened her mouth and then bit something back, but Bess didn't notice. She sloped off to her room, sat on her bed and pulled something out from under the pillow. "Useless," she muttered, staring down at the filthy old cloth doll in her hand. And to think she'd let the thing sit around for a year and a half because she'd actually been apprehensive about messing around with that stuff again. Still, what did she expect for three dollars from E-bay? She stood up, crossed the room, stuffed the doll into a drawer and wondered if she could sell it on for any more than three bucks.

x x x

"It's you, thank God," Kylie hissed furtively, when Kevin opened to door to her and Eduardo. "Can we just take our children and leave please?"

"No," said Kevin. "Come in. Mom's making enough dinner so that you can stay."

Kylie scowled. "She's still making dinner?"

"Dad can't cook."

"Has he ever tried?"

"Look," Kevin said quietly. "I don't think they've quite worked everything out yet, but my recklessness and insensitivity has apparently brought them closer together. Mom doesn't think I should do my travelling thing either." He looked at Eduardo. "Please can you try to convince them it's a good idea?"

Eduardo flinched. "I don't want to cause any more arguments, Kev."

"What's this?" asked Kylie, entering through the door as Kevin stepped aside to let them in.

"It's two things actually," said Kevin. "One is that I told my dad I don't want to become a cop, and the other is that I'm planning to do as much travelling as I can on the inheritance I got from my grandfather."

"That sounds like a really good idea."

"Really? You think so? Can _you_ convince my parents? After dinner, I mean."

Kylie nodded. "You bet."

Eduardo winced. It was a close-fought race, but Kylie definitely had her nose in front nowadays when it came to aggravating Carl.

"I thought," said Kylie, "that you couldn't enter the police academy until you were twenty."

"It's twenty-two now," said Kevin. "Dad was pretty annoyed when that happened, but then he was all like: 'Never mind, Kev, you'll just have to be an auxiliary cop for an extra two years.'"

"That's like being a cop but without any of the really useful stuff like the right to arrest, isn't it?"

"Something like that. You can start when you're seventeen."

"When he suggested it to me ten years ago almost to the day," said Eduardo, "I told him where to go."

"But I'm not as brave as that," Kevin went on, "so I used school as an excuse and he assumed I'd start after I graduated."

"And you," said a brusque voice from the living room doorway, "never bothered to correct me."

Kevin jumped about a foot in the air, and then turned to face his father. "There was no point in telling you anything before I completely made up my mind," he said reasonably. "Come on, Dad – can't you just accept it and move on?"

"Kevin's eighteen, Carl, and he's perfectly capable of making his own decisions," Kylie put in. "And you should support him, whatever he decides."

Carl scowled. "Is this any of your business?"

"Please stop," begged Kevin. "Mom wants us all to have a nice family dinner with no squabbling. Remember, Dad?"

"Yeah, well," muttered Carl, who was currently very keen to keep Beth happy. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

"I can't wait," muttered Kevin. "Anyway, Rose is in the living room – she's been drawing little pictures of animals with Dad…"

Carl coloured slightly, and Eduardo smirked.

"…and Chita's in the kitchen with Mom shelling peas."

"Shelling peas?" echoed Eduardo. "Great. She'll make a proper little housewife someday, won't she, Ky."

"That's so funny I can't even laugh," retorted Kylie.

She then made for the kitchen, not because she was keener to see Conchita than Rose, but because she was hoping there might be a couple of ibuprofen tablets in there. She was experiencing that dull pain just below her navel and the inexplicable tugging feeling in the small of her back that could only mean one thing (fortunately she had come prepared for it). In a way, it was intensely irritating; Eduardo had not only declined a bout of lovemaking the night before, but had also refused to do more than hold hands while they were staying with his aunt in Mexico. With another week of celibacy looming, that would bring the total up to a record breaking three weeks and two days. However it also came as something of a relief; having another baby was a nice idea, but in reality it would be about as practical as a chocolate teapot.

"Hello, sweetheart." Kylie walked over to where Conchita was shelling peas, and hugged her. "Beth, have you got any ibuprofen?"

"No, sorry," said Beth. "We've got some aspirin."

Aspirin wasn't ideal, because it encouraged the bleeding, but Kylie knew she had to put up with this if she wanted to kill the pain. She took two tablets with a glass of water, and then said, "So, Beth… how's things?"

"Better," said Beth. "He seems to be willing to listen anyway. That looks like enough peas, Chita, thank you."

"Is there anything else I can do?" asked Conchita.

"Um…" Beth looked around the kitchen, and saw that the only remaining tasks involved something sharp or hot or both. "Not right now, honey, thank you."

"Chita," said Kylie. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Um." Conchita blinked those big green bush baby eyes of hers. "Do I have to decide now?"

"No. Only… well, you don't want to be shelling peas for the rest of your life, do you?"

"No. I don't mind shelling peas, but it isn't _very_ interesting. Not for more than a few minutes anyway."

She trotted off to find her father, leaving Kylie and Beth alone.

"Did I hear Kevin telling you about this whole business with his inheritance?" asked Beth. "He's being very irresponsible if you ask me. He might need that money in the future. Imagine if Eduardo had squandered all his inheritance when he was eighteen. How would you ever have been able to afford to move out of our garage?"

"Well," said Kylie. "It's his money."

Beth nodded. "I know."

"You're glad he doesn't want to join the police force, though, aren't you? I wouldn't get a wink of sleep if I thought one of my kids could be in that much danger."

"I _am_ glad, actually," Beth confessed. "Carl's furious. You may have noticed."

"Yeah, well, he's no right to be."

"Oh no? He _is_ his father."

"So what? It has to be Kevin's decision."

"This," Beth said dryly, "from the woman who just told her daughter never to become a housewife."

Kylie blinked. "I didn't tell her that."

"You did."

"I didn't!"

"So if one of your girls ever _did_ decide to become a full-time wife and mother," Beth persisted, "you would have nothing to say about it?"

"I don't know," said Kylie. "I can't see it happening, to be honest. They're not like that."

"Like what?" demanded Beth. "Like me? I chose this lifestyle, Kylie, just like you chose yours. It doesn't make me inferior."

"I never said it did."

"But that's what you think."

"It doesn't matter what I think. If you're happy…"

"I am."

"Good."

Beth was stonily silent after that, so Kylie made the wise decision to slink away. She was beginning to wonder if she really _did_ have a negative effect on this family. Not that it was any of that interfering ghost's business. Still, she seemed to have made herself scarce, at least for the rest of the day.

"Hey, babe." Eduardo met Kylie out in the hallway. "Are you ok? You looked like you were in pain back there."

"Period cramps," explained Kylie. "Which fortunately means I can blame that little temper tantrum yesterday on hormones."

"Oh, Kylie." Eduardo pulled a face. "Timing."

"Actually it was three days late."

"Is that a lot?"

"Not really. Not if I'm stressed or I've had stuff on my mind, which I have. Last night when I climbed on top of you I thought maybe we'd encourage it, but it seems to have managed all right by itself."

Eduardo wrinkled his nose. "How does _that_ work?"

"It stimulates the uterus. Encourages whatever's in there to come out."

"Does it?"

"Yes. Don't you remember when I was pregnant with Chita, and she was like two days overdue and I had this stupid panic they'd want to induce my labour, and the midwife advised us to have sex?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you ever wonder why?"

"Kylie. I've been wondering that for the past five years."

Kylie laughed. "Oh babe, I do love you." She stood up on tiptoe and craned her neck to kiss him.

x x x

Constantine bit her lip. Sally was bleeding like… like… she had never seen anything like it. She felt Sally's body go limp, and then slump to the floor. Constantine took a step back, and then glanced down at the doll, still clutched in a tight fist. She opened her fingers slowly, and stared. Coincidence? God, how she hoped so. If she had ever really wanted to take it this far with Sally, she was cured of that now. The blood from her fingers, where her rusty old childhood needles had stabbed her, had gathered between the doll's legs.

"I don't believe this," murmured Constantine, addressing the doll. "Just don't die, Sally. Please don't die."

She stared down at the doll for a good few moments, and then she could have sworn she saw its expression change. A cloud of darkness seemed to wash over its dirty, worn little face, just for a moment. Constantine screamed, and threw the doll across the room. Then she looked down.

Sally was dead.

x x x

**Somewhere on the Astral Plane:**

_Were you watching all of that?_

_Sure. It's amazing what the world is coming to, isn't it? My wife just used lie in bed for a few days, tell the boys she had her "monthly visitor" and refuse to let me within three feet of her._

_I meant before that._

_Oh. Yeah. Some of it. I had to keep an eye on Carl as well._

_Of course. I'm sure they'll work it out._

_They should do, as long as Beth doesn't get too many more crazy ideas from your granddaughter._

_Great-granddaughter._

_Whatever._

_You don't like Kylie very much, do you?_

_I like her fine. She's not exactly the kind of woman I pictured him settling down with, I admit, but she makes him happy and that's what matters. It gives you a sense of perspective, doesn't it, being this way._

_Absolutely._

_You know what sucks? Just when Eddie finally gets himself sorted, Carl starts having problems with his family. Why can't they both be in a good place in their lives at the same time? There always seems to be some kind of problem with one of them – it's not good for me, all this worrying. I wish I could actually do something about it. I wish I could knock some sense into Carl – make him see how important it is for him to maintain a good relationship with his son._

_You don't mind Kevin spending all your money on travelling?_

_What good would that do? There's nothing I can do about it. But anyway, the money isn't the point. Suppose Carl dies tomorrow. It'd break Kevin's heart. I wasn't getting on with Eddie when I died, and now it pisses him off all the time. He wishes we parted on better terms._

_Don't you?_

_Not really. I was hard on him because he was a rude sulky little bastard, but he knows I loved him. I can't believe he doesn't think I'm proud of him. That's so insulting. I'm a nice guy. I'm very reasonable. Why wouldn't I be proud?_

_Well, perhaps you should let him know._

_How can I? I've been hanging around him for years and he never realises. He doesn't notice these things. It's so unfair – you don't have these problems with Kylie._

_Yes, well, she and I were very close._

_I know you were. I'm still pissed that you got a kid named after you and I didn't._

_I thought you said being dead gave you a sense of perspective._

_So it does. That's important. If your dad dies you name a kid after him, for crying out loud!_

_Well, what were they supposed to call her? Alberta?_

_Huh. It's no worse than Conchita._

_It wouldn't suit her._

_Sure it would, if she'd been called it all her life._

_Oh, stop. He didn't do it on purpose to annoy you. He called her Conchita because he thinks it's a nice name. Perhaps if she'd been a boy… well, you could always call that baby of yours by your own name, you know. He might have been, if things were different._

_No, no, he wouldn't have. Don't ask me how I know, but he's definitely a Nicolas._

THE END


End file.
